


There's A Million City Lights But You're Number One

by Ninyaaaaaaah



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Burrcules - background, Edging, Hamliza - background, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lams - past, Laurette - Freeform, Light BDSM, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Rimming, Safe Word Use, Sex Work, Smut, Subspace, sex worker slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-04 21:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12177114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninyaaaaaaah/pseuds/Ninyaaaaaaah
Summary: When John spotted a stunning stranger one morning, he never expected their paths would cross. People like that didn't need people like John.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brilliantboffins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantboffins/gifts).



> Title is from "Fire Escape" by Andrew MacMahon In The Wilderness.
> 
> \--
> 
> keep an eye on the tags they will be updated as the fic goes on.
> 
> \--
> 
> This work is not intended to be a commentary on sex work in any way. Though John doesn't harbour positive feelings towards his work, this doesn't reflect how I personally feel regarding sex work (I full support it and the decriminalization of it). I did quite a bit of research for this fic and have tried my best to portray the topics covered here with sensitivity and care. If anyone has any questions or concerns, please feel free to contact me to discuss, my door is always open.

John stifled a yawn as he tabbed his status to “offline” and swiped up to close Spyce, the app disappearing from his iphone’s screen. As always, he felt an invisible weight lift off his shoulders with the finality of the tiny motion. Done for the night, cash in his pocket, sun rising pink and orange and beautiful over the tips of the skyscrapers. 

The pretty window dressings on another hard night. 

John took a deep breath, tapped out a quick text message:

 **John:** Done. Coming home.

Watched his screen, those three dots showing up almost immediately. 

**Ham:** Good. C u soon.

 **John:** save me some dinner?

 **Ham:** *breakfast.

John shook his head, couldn’t help but grin a little bit. He slid his phone into his tight, dark wash jeans, zipped up his leather jacket, the soft fleece of the wide collar comforting against his neck. Winter was going to be harder, he could already tell, the chill of early October morning nipping at his nose, putting a soft blush in his freckled cheeks. 

He started to walk home, his day ending as everyone else’s began. The exhaustion in his body went more than skin deep, seeped into his bones, rested heavy in the bottom of his heart. 

He didn’t pay too much mind to his surroundings, kept his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched against the crisp breeze, chin tucked into the soft fleece of his jacket. He needed a shower and he wanted to sleep, didn’t want to think about work, didn’t want to think about how fast his savings weren’t building up, didn’t want to think about all the half finished projects scattered around his room. 

He pulled his phone back out of his pocket. 

**John:** Chipotle?

Slid it back in and turned a corner, didn’t think too much of the stretch limo that pulled up in front of the Four Seasons several feet in front of him. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. Thumbed in his passcode.

**Ham:** It’s 7am. 

**Ham:** beggars can’t be choosers. You’re getting cold baked beans and toast.

 **John:** ugh. Fine. 

**Ham:** stop whining.

 **John:** asshole.

 **Ham:** baby.

John shook his head and tucked his phone away again. Looked up to start walking and stopped dead. 

The limo driver had opened the door, and the man that stepped out of the pristine vehicle was stunning. John could almost feel his jaw hit the cold, unforgiving sidewalk. 

The man was tall, elegant in a finely cut suit, looked like he had just stepped out of a photo shoot. His tightly curled hair was pulled back in a poof, perfectly trimmed beard highlighting a chiseled jaw. Soft lips, and the biggest dark eyes…

John watched him thank the driver, slide him a tip. Watched him watch the bellhops take his luggage from the trunk and whisk it away. 

Watched him stretch, and smile dazzlingly, as if the entire city of New York and the rising sun had all unfurled like a red carpet, unrolling a beautiful day just for him. 

He glanced over at John, and now that dazzling smile was directed at John, and John felt his heart do a backflip and he couldn’t even get his brain online enough to smile back, and then the man was looking away again, greeting the waiting bellhop with that same smile, and walking away into the Four Seasons, disappearing from John’s life just like that. 

_Stupid, Laurens._ John chided himself. Gave himself a mental shake and started walking again. Wished he’d happened across such a beautiful stranger when he was less dishevelled. When he didn’t have the taste of cum in his throat and the smell of a stranger on his skin. When his knees weren’t still smarting from a night bearing more than their fair share. When he wasn’t desperate for sleep with his stomach gnawing on his backbone. When he had something left in him to give to such a person. A smile, a nod, anything?

Instead he’d just stared like a creep with his jaw on the dirty sidewalk. 

The driver got back in the limo and the limo pulled away from the sidewalk, cutting into traffic with the slow grace of a swan on a pond, incongruous with the New York traffic around it. 

John sighed and started walking again, hands in his pockets, heart a little heavy. 

By the time he walked through the door of the apartment, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. 

The TV was on, morning news turned down low. Newspapers and books littered the coffee table, someone’s leftover breakfast bowl balanced precariously on a stack of Time magazines. The entire apartment was a mess, much to Burr’s disgust. 

John kicked his shoes off and left them where he stepped out of them, tossed his coat over the back of a chair, and fell face down onto the couch that wasn’t occupied by Hercules and Burr. 

“Ugggggggggggggggh!” He groaned, face in the cushions. 

“Good morning to you too,” Herc replied lightly. 

“Hello, John,” Burr spoke, quieter. 

John turned his head to look at them, happy couple curled together on the couch, Burr’s head on Herc’s shoulder as they watched TV. It had taken them forever to get together, Burr’s usual indecision nearly costing him the chance after months and months and months of back and forth. Herc’s patience had worn thin, and just when it looked like it was over for good, Burr had screwed up his courage and made a choice. 

John didn’t want to feel jealous of his friends. He didn’t. He was happy for them, really. 

But sometimes it was hard to see them together, hard to watch the quiet intimacy of casual touch and easy being together. 

Hard to see something that he couldn’t have, wouldn’t ever have. 

Knew it was only his own fault that he didn’t have it now, and he was over it, over Alex, but sometimes it just stung. Sometimes it just felt like the salt in the wound of a too long, too lonely night, his body not his own. 

“I saw the most gorgeous man this morning. Ugh, why can’t that be my life?” John whined, his arm draping off the side of the couch, fingers brushing the old wooden floor.

“.... it can,” Herc deadpanned. 

Burr raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

“Fuck, you know what I mean, Herc, you know why I can’t,” John huffed. 

“You can, though. Call your father. Talk to him.” Herc rubbed his hand absently up Burr’s arm as he spoke, and Burr closed his eyes, tuned them out. 

“No. No way, not a chance. I’m doing this _on my own_ ,” John rolled onto his back, restless, unhappy. 

“At what cost?” Herc asked quietly. 

John sighed. 

“Shut up,” he responded, just as quiet. It was one thing to carry the weight of his choices in his own heart. Quite another to hear that weight on the lips of his friends. “Anyway. You should have seen him guys. He must be a model or something, ugh, he was so gorgeous…” John trailed off and pushed himself up off the couch. 

“Well. Try to meet him or something,” Burr suggested, quiet. 

John looked at him, eyebrow raised. Shook his head.

“Men like that don’t need men like me,” he tried to keep the defeat out of his voice, he really did. He tried to keep a bright exterior, tried to laugh it all off with a smile, tried not to let his friends know how it was all wearing on him.

Didn’t always succeed. 

He walked out of the living room before either of them could respond. Didn’t know where Alex was but was glad he wasn’t here to hear this. 

Thoughts of breakfast forgotten, John kicked the door of his room shut behind him. Ignored the covered canvas in the corner by the window. Ignored the sketchbook on the floor, pencil lying in wait on top of it. Ignored his laptop and tablet. Ignored it all. 

Stripped out of his clothes and flung them in the direction of his laundry hamper. Didn’t care if they actually made it in or not. His room was a mess of rumpled sheets and clothes everywhere, running shoes haphazard in the middle of the floor, blinds drawn to keep out the light. College application papers somewhere under all the mess on the floor. 

John wrapped his towel loosely around his waist, grabbed his little green basket of shower supplies - Eliza had gotten tired of the millions of bottles of soaps and shampoos strewn all over the bathroom, and gotten them each their own plastic basket, insisted they use it. 

John could admit that it was better. 

John could admit that Eliza was sweet, that she was a bright spot in all of their lives, not just Alex’s. 

That she was better for Alex than he ever could have been. 

He tugged his bedroom door closed behind him again, locked the bathroom door behind himself and turned on the water. Hoped it chose to cooperate and actually get hot today, didn’t think he could handle it if it refused to do so like it did so often. 

He tossed the towel on the floor, slid the basket onto the corner of the tub, felt tempted to say a little prayer and do a good luck dance before sticking his hand under the spray of water to check its temperature-

Good and hot.

John sighed in relief and stepped into the shower, pulling the spiderman shower curtain that Herc had bought as a joke and no one had bothered to replace closed behind him. 

Stepping into the deliciously hot spray of clean water was the best moment of his day. 

He turned his face into the water, opened his mouth and let the spray fill it up, sound loud in his ears. As the water pooled in his mouth, worked into his hair and soaked it, curls hanging heavy down his back with the weight of it, John started to feel relaxed. The water ran down his chest and stomach, over hips and cock and thighs, cleansing, balancing, warming him from the inside out. Over those knees that worked too hard, restoring his body back to himself, giving him back ownership. 

Showers had taken on an almost ritualistic quality for him, and the rest of the house seemed to understand because it was a rare moment indeed when anyone barged in here while he was showering now. Blessed peace where there had once been only chaos, the suffocating, haphazard intimacy of five people sharing a small apartment. 

Now, there was only the sound of water and the beat of his own heart. 

After a long moment, John closed his mouth, warm water spilling down his chin. He stepped back and shook his head, water droplets spraying the shower walls and curtain. Swiped a hand down his face and opened his eyes again. 

He went through the motions of washing his hair, missed the shampoo he used to buy and hated the obnoxious green apple scent of the cheap shit he bought now, that Eliza had been kind enough to pick up for him when he’d run out. It didn’t feel as nice through his hair, and he hated the way it smelled, but it was cheap, and he needed to think about that now, and he hated needing to think about that even as he recognized it was only his own fault that he did. 

He scrubbed his body from head to toe with whatever body wash he’d grabbed off the shelf in a sleepy daze last week, minerals and sage or some shit. It didn’t matter, he covered it all up in the evening with the overpowering smell of axe body spray. He scrubbed until his skin was pink and tender, until he felt clean again, until he knew he would be able to lie in bed on his cheap cotton sheets and not feel his skin crawling with the memories of strangers’ hands. 

If only he had clients like that man he’d seen this morning…

He was so beautiful it wasn’t fair. How could someone even _look_ like that?! 

He was actually perfect. And the way he had treated the people around him, kind smiles for everyone, even the bellhop. The way he’d looked at John, those warm, dark eyes piercing right into him for a second. 

That dazzling smile, so bright it actually almost hurt. 

Fuck. 

If only that was who he was getting on his knees for. Not in an alley but in the plush comfort of the four seasons, knees barely feeling the weight because they were cushioned in luscious carpet. He would treat John kindly, like he really saw him, wanted _him_. Would tell him how good he was being as he cupped John’s chin and slid his cock into his mouth… 

John groaned and reached down, curled a soapy hand loosely around his hardening cock.

It felt a little wrong, thinking about him like this after a night of whoring on the streets, but fuck it. John bit his lower lip angrily. He could have this one thing for himself, for today. It wasn’t like he’d ever see him again anyways. People like that didn’t need people like John, just like he’d told Herc.

Still. 

He wouldn’t be a client, he’d be a lover. Someone who truly wanted _John_ , for himself. 

He’d tell him how precious he was, stroke his hair as John sucked his cock, long and thick and perfect…

John turned, legs spread, and leaned his arm against the wall, pressed his forehead against it. Stroked himself with tight, wet strokes, the familiarity of his own hand a relief and a comfort. 

The stranger would push John down on the bed after he came, and he’d bury two long fingers in John’s ass as he sucked his cock in return, those piercing eyes looking up John’s body at him as he did, watching John’s face, listening to the way John moaned at his touch because he actually cared if it felt good. Couldn’t praise John with his mouth full of John’s cock but it wouldn’t matter because John would see it in his eyes, he’d feel it in the way his free hand stroked John’s hip, stroked his thigh, sweet affection while he drove him closer and closer to orgasm…

John tightened his hand, stroked himself with quick, tight strokes, his mouth falling open as his gut tightened with heat. 

He groaned loudly, bit his lower lip, didn’t quite manage to swallow the sound as his hips jerked and he came, spilling over his hand, pleasure wringing his body out. 

“Don’t jerk off in the shower, John!” Alex’s voice, hollered from the hall as he walked by. 

“Fuck you Alex!” John shouted back, yanked roughly back down to earth. 

Couldn’t help but grin as the sound of Alex’s laughter faded down the hall. 

He let the hot water rinse away the evidence, and turned the knob off with his foot.

He felt better. Not perfect, but better. Held that fantasy in his heart to fall back on during cold days to come. Towelled off vigorously, brushed his teeth, and padded back across the hall to his bedroom. Shut the door behind him, blessed dark and cool and quiet. Tossed his towel on the floor and put the basket on his dresser. 

Fell face down on the bed and just barely cared enough to hitch the sheets over his bare ass before sleep reached up, and dragged him under.


	2. Chapter 2

Another day, another night, another dollar. 

John pushed all thoughts of handsome strangers and limousines and fancy hotels from the back of his mind as the week went on, Friday to Saturday to Sunday and so on. Mid week was the worst, he didn’t usually even open Spyce on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, too depressing to stare at the app and wait in vain for a message. The clients on Spyce were fewer and farther between, but the caliber so much better, the money so much better…

John lay on his back on his bare mattress, his sheets balled up in the middle of the floor, blanket pushed to a corner. 

On a whim, he opened the app anyways. Set himself to available. Put his phone face down on the bed beside him and tossed a heavy arm across his face. 

Couldn’t bear the thought of spending another night on his knees in an alley, or crunched painfully over a stick shift, a stranger’s cock in his mouth, sweaty, shaky fingers exchanging crumbled bills, the cold anonymity behind a transaction of needs. Over and over, not enough, not enough. 

He picked his phone back up. 

Nothing. 

Set a timer for half an hour. If nothing happened, he’d take tonight off. Bug Alex and Eliza or Herc and Burr until they grudgingly agreed to go somewhere with him. He wouldn’t even mind being the third wheel just to get the chance to do something normal. 

He set his phone face down again. Dropped his arm across his face again. Waited. 

Hated how he held his breath. 

Hated how he hoped he’d hear the telltale chime of a message, and at the same time hoped he wouldn’t, that the jarring beeping of the timer would go off instead. Played this game with himself at least once a week, racing the timer against the message. 

Always felt a little bit relieved no matter what the outcome was.

Always felt a little bit sick no matter what the outcome was. 

Knew in the back of his mind that it didn’t have to be this way, but he had his pride and so here he was, stuck between a rock and a hard place with nowhere to go but down. 

He sighed heavily, felt the slight burn in his abs from his work out earlier, always pushed the hardest when he felt the worst, took out his frustration on his body. 

Beyond his closed bedroom door, he could hear the TV blaring, happy chatter of all four of his roommates piled into their small living room. Knew there was always a spot for him too, on a backwards, creaky dining room chair, or sprawled across the beanbag he’d ordered one night after he and Alex had stayed up far too late, in a happy daze of pot and beer and snacks. 

Instead he stayed here, sprawled on his back, didn’t feel like moving at all, all of his limbs heavy with exhaustion. 

He resisted the urge to check his phone, let his evening hang in the balance of which notification went off first. 

A soft chime sounded, loud in the stillness of his room. 

Lead in his gut, John picked up his phone. Two minutes and fourteen seconds left on the timer, and Spyce won out. 

**1 new message**

John swiped sideways, thumbed in his passcode, turned off the timer, took a deep breath, and pulled up the app. 

There was always a moment of abject horror before he opened the message, dread of not knowing what lay on the other side of that unread notification. 

He had a couple of regulars on Spyce, but none of them ever messaged him mid-week, and only once a month or so. If he could just build up a bigger network of regulars, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe, if they weren’t quite strangers anymore, people he’d begun to know a little bit, maybe that would make the difference, ease that heavy, sick feeling in his guts. 

Or maybe not. 

He sighed, clicked on the message from before he could change his mind.

 **LeMarquis:** bonjour, mon petit. I am interested in your company for the evening, if that would be amenable to you, as well. I have read your profile, and what you say there is very pleasing to me, as is your photograph. Those freckles, mon dieu. Please, join me for a drink at the Four Seasons, and if we find pleasure in one another, then we may take things upstairs, non? I eagerly await your reply, sweet thing. Baisers, Laf. 

John raised an eyebrow at the message. Who did this guy think he was? 

He had no photo up, but it was rare that clients did. John’s own photo was from the neck down, displaying only his toned body from shoulders to upper thighs, hard cock trapped in a tight, white jockstrap. 

Chewing at his lower lip anxiously, John tapped out a reply. 

**XXXJXXX:** Hi there. I’d love to meet you for a drink!! What time would you like me to be there? Any special requests?!! Can’t wait to meet you! Xo, J.

Felt his soul curl up and wither a little more with every excessive exclamation mark. 

Waited, tapping his thumb against the side of the phone. 

Didn’t have to wait long before his phone chimed again, showing one new message. 

**LeMarquis:** Bien! Would nine o’clock suit you? Does that give you enough time? I have no special requests, you are special enough.

“Oh, barf,” John tossed his phone down, huffed, annoyed. 

Sighed and picked it back up.

 **XXXJXXX:** 9 is perfect! Let me know what you’re wearing and I’ll come find you!! Looking foward to a great night!!!

Put his phone down and hauled himself up off the bed. He had enough time to take his time, picked out a tight pair of dark jeans and wriggled into them. Hummed and hawed over what shirt to wear, and ended up choosing a soft lavender T-shirt, tight fitted with a v-neck that showed off his bronzed skin and clung to his carefully sculpted abs. Slid a belt through his belt loops and did it up, put together, knew these rich types preferred their boy toys wrapped up in a neat and tidy package. 

He left his hair down, tousled it carefully so the dark curls fell about his shoulders, soft and a little romantic. 

Considered the can of axe body spray, cheap and obnoxious. Decided against it. 

Picked up his favourite cologne, YSL La Nuit De L’homme, getting down to the dregs now…

Decided against that too. 

Felt a little naked going out smelling just like himself, weird combination of faded green apple, sage, and minerals, hoped that strange combination didn’t make him smell like a roast dinner. 

Decided he didn’t care, couldn’t do better than that when nothing felt right. 

Tugged on his jacket, straightened his shoulders, tucked a couple of condoms in his back pocket and his wallet in the inside pocket of his jacket, zipped it up. 

Ducked into the bathroom and brushed his teeth vigorously, rinsed and gargled with mouthwash, fluffed his hair again, put on deodorant. Inspected his teeth closely, checking to make sure nothing was stuck between them. Recognized that he was stalling now. 

Went back into his room and pulled on a pair of black converse, laced them up and took one last look around his messy room. Told himself he’d clean it tomorrow, could barely remember what the floor looked like beneath all the stuff perpetually strewn across it. 

Knew he was lying before he even finished the thought. 

~*~

John pulled his hands from his pockets as he stepped into the dimly lit lounge bar, felt out of place in the middle of such luxury, and tried to play it off like he didn’t. 

The client had sent him a photo while he was on the subway headed over, neck down, of a sculpted body in a thin emerald green sweater and gray jeans. 

John surveyed the bar, a few people scattered here and there. Spotted the green sweater in a booth in the far corner, and headed in that direction, waving off the hostess.

As he approached, LeMarquis lifted his head. 

Fixed John with that brilliant, dazzling smile that had frozen John on the spot a few short days ago. 

John faltered, resisted the temptation to look around for a second emerald green sweater, managed to smile back this time, though he knew it was lacking. 

“J?” his voice was as stunning as the rest of him. Warm and welcoming, higher in pitch than John would have expected. 

He extended a long fingered hand, and John swallowed hard, nodded. Stepped forwards and slid his hand into the stranger’s, his eyes widening when his hand was lifted to those plush lips, the softest kiss across his knuckles. 

“Please, sit. You are just as lovely as I had hoped. My name is Lafayette, but you may call me Laf if you prefer,” The stranger - Lafayette - gestured elegantly at the opposing bench. 

John sat, feeling stunned. He was never good at this part. The small talk, the fake excitement, making clients feel like he couldn’t wait to get their dicks in his mouth. 

He felt even more awkward than normal in the face of such a gorgeous man. 

“Are you alright, J? Is that what you go by? Is there something you would prefer I call you?” Lafayette was watching him closely, attentively, leaning in like he wanted to share a secret, those dark eyes fixed on John and only John with an intensity that took John’s breath away. 

“Ah… yes. I, J’s fine. I’m fine,” John stammered. He could feel himself blushing, heat rising in his cheeks, wanted to crawl under the table and hide, wanted to start over, wanted to go back to his room, rewind a few hours, not bother with the app or the timer and just take the night off, holed up in the security of his makeshift family, instead of sitting here across a table from beautiful Lafayette and making a total fool of himself. 

“Are you sure? A drink perhaps? I was thinking of ordering the pinot noir, would you like that?” Lafayette seemed genuinely concerned, softness in his voice that made John want to melt despite his nervousness. 

He nodded. Tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. 

“Yes please,” his voice shook, he hated how nervous he sounded, how green, like this was his first night on the job. Fuck. 

Lafayette looked at him strangely, then turned away to waive the waiter over. 

With Lafayette’s intense gaze directed elsewhere, John was able to gather himself a little, calm his racing thoughts, shush his heartbeat into slowing. By the time Lafayette turned back, John was ready with a more confident smile, outwardly relaxed. 

“So, tell me about yourself little one, what do you do when you are not entertaining?” Lafayette asked. He stretched his hand across the table, palm up, and John placed his hand in it, let Lafayette stroke his thumb across the back of John’s hand, watching him closely. 

“I’m hoping to get into NYU for fine arts, so I’ve been working on my portfolio, saving my money for tuition…” John launched into his usual story, estranged from his family, art school hopeful, all talent no backing. It was true, or close enough, and these rich types lapped it up, felt better about using him if they could think of it as helping him out, often told him to remember them when he was a famous artist. 

The wine arrived, and John relaxed, and conversation began to flow. Lafayette was attentive and intelligent, asked lots of questions, and soon had John feeling perfectly at ease, time rolling past unnoticed. 

Appetizers were ordered, Lafayette checking in with John about each choice, so sweet and so considerate that John could almost have fooled himself into thinking this was a real date, that Lafayette actually, really liked him, wanted him for him. 

The food was to die for, tuna and steak tartare, scallop ‘carpaccio’, sliced baguette and assorted spreads, small morsels that melted on John’s tongue, made his eyes roll back in bliss. 

Lafayette watched him closely, looked pleased at John’s unashamed enjoyment of the fine foods. 

After the appetizers were cleared away, Lafayette shifted over in the bench, patted the space beside him. 

Heart in his throat, John slipped out of the booth and into Lafayette’s side, forced himself to relax when Lafayette wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulled him close.

They shared dessert after, a chocolate souffle that Lafayette fed to John on a spoon, the intimacy of the gesture bringing heat to John’s cheeks all over again, something charged beginning to sizzle in the air between them that John didn’t have to fake.

Too soon, the wine was gone and the dessert plates were lifted away, the bill paid. Pregnant pause, and John’s mouth tasted sour with the remembering of why he was really here. 

“Well sweetheart? I have very much enjoyed this time, and would love to take you upstairs, if you would like?” Lafayette asked the question like John’s answer actually mattered to him. 

John swallowed hard. Nodded. 

“I would,” he slipped out of the bench, allowed Lafayette out as well. 

The elevator ride was silent, Lafayette’s hand on John’s waist, touch loose. Tension crept back between them, and John still wanted to crawl in a hole and die, still hated this deep down, even if his client was as kind and as handsome as Lafayette. 

Inside the room, stunning suite in tasteful neutrals, large bed perfectly made up in pristine white… 

Lafayette sat on the edge of the bed while John tugged his shoes off and hung up his jacket. 

He sat beside Lafayette, turned to face him, almost hated it more because here was someone he actually wanted, someone he could dream about wanting him…

Someone he had dreamed about wanting him. 

Fuck. 

“What are your boundaries, sweetheart?” Lafayette asked, soft, gentle, caring. 

John wanted to cry. 

“Just like it says on Spyce. I don’t do anal with clients, and anything kinky we need to talk about first, maybe yes, maybe no, it depends what it is. Blow jobs are fine, hand jobs are fine,” John shrugged. He hated this part, hated the awkwardness, hated reminding people that this was a job, it wasn’t just fun. Hated when clients pushed back on what he outlined, asked for more, wheedled and cajoled, tried to ply him with more money. 

Lafayette did none of that. He simply nodded, and leaned in to cup John’s cheek in his hand, thumb stroking softly over John’s skin. 

“Excellent. I just wanted to remind myself what was and was not alright with you. Please, if anything makes you uncomfortable, just tell me?” He smiled sweetly, and leaned in a little, then paused. “You didn’t mention kissing, here or on Spyce. May I?” 

John’s breath caught in his throat, Lafayette’s sweet manners, his gentle hand, those intense eyes trained on his face… how could he help but swoon a little, wish this was something more than just a transaction of needs?

“Yes, you may,” he whispered back. 

Lafayette smiled, and leaned in, lips brushing over John’s in the gentlest of kisses, asking rather than taking. 

John’s heart did a backflip and he silently told it to sit, and he leaned in and brought his hand up to the back of Lafayette’s neck and kissed him back, parted his lips for Lafayette’s asking tongue and tangled his own with it. Closed his eyes and just surrendered to it because when the fuck was he ever going to get even this lucky again? 

_Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, Laurens._.

Lafayette slid his hand down, supported John’s back as he pressed him down to the bed, pulled him close, kissed him deeper. 

John let himself melt against Lafayette, the subtle smell of his cologne and fresh sheets in his nose, the thorough way he kissed sending heat through John’s body. 

Yeah, he could enjoy this. 

John slipped his hand under Lafayette’s shirt, stroked up his back with light fingers, didn’t have to send his mind anywhere else to get his cock on board, was getting hard just from this, just from kissing Lafayette, just from being held in his strong arms. 

Lafayette tugged at John’s shirt, and John pulled back, wriggled out of it and dropped it out of the way, tugged at Lafayette’s sweater until he did the same, revealing a deliciously sculpted body. John pressed a kiss to Lafayette’s neck, stroked his hand appreciatively over Lafayette’s chest, thumb rubbing at his nipple. 

He shimmied down the bed, kissing Lafayette’s chest, eyes closed, nipped a little, testing the waters, trying to work out what Lafayette might like.

Grinned against his warm skin when Lafayette made a soft sound of appreciation. 

He shimmied further down, got his mouth on those incredible abs, licked and nipped and kissed, teasing, tasting, little grin on his face. Maybe if he was good enough, if he blew Lafayette out of the water, maybe he’d hire him again. Maybe he’d decide he wanted to keep him, maybe he’d sweep him off his feet and take him away to a better life. 

That in the back of his mind, John stroked a hand up Lafayette’s inner thigh through his tight jeans, cupped his cock, teased his thumb over the hard length through the fabric as he worked his way down and down and down, Lafayette making soft sounds of appreciation beneath him. 

He got to Lafayette’s hip, stroked his tongue down that defined line until he hit denim, and looked up at Lafayette.

“What do you want, sexy? Wanna make you feel good, yeah?” John asked, punctuating the question with a little squeeze to Lafayette’s cock. 

Lafayette was propped up on his elbows, watching John closely. He reached down and brushed his fingers over John’s cheek, the gesture almost tender and oh so out of place. 

“C’mon baby, tonight’s all about you, what makes you feel good? What do you like? Want me to suck your hard cock? Get all of this in my mouth, you feel so big, baby, I’m not sure I can take it, but I’ll try for you,” John tilted his head slightly, watched Lafayette watch him, so close it was almost unnerving, like Lafayette was really looking _at_ him, like he was looking for the things most clients tried to pretend weren’t there at all. It didn’t help John feel less nervous. 

“Mmm, I’d like that very much,” he said simply, voice warm, accent thicker. 

John dropped off the edge of the bed to his knees, waited for Lafayette to sit up and scoot to the edge, and unfastened his belt. 

“I bet you taste so good, I can’t wait to have your cock in my mouth, yeah, wish I could taste you for real…” John’s mouth seemed to take on a life of its own, spilling dirty words as he unzipped Lafayette’s jeans, pulled his cock out of his boxer briefs, stroked it with one hand while he fished in his back pocket for a condom. “Look at all this, you’re fucking huge, gonna feel so good in my mouth, so full, oh yeah,” John ripped the condom open with his teeth, fitted it over the head of Lafayette’s dick and closed his lips over the latex. 

He looked up at Lafayette, eyes wide, cheeks hollowed, and rolled the condom on with his mouth, a trick he’d learned ages ago that came in handy now. 

Lafayette’s hand threaded into his hair, his legs opening wider. Said something in French that John didn’t understand. It didn’t matter. 

Felt like he was outside his body looking in, staring down at himself, listening to his mouth run on and on, watching himself suck a stranger’s dick for money… 

Closed his eyes and just did it, cheeks hollow, mouth tight, his hand curled around the base of Lafayette’s cock as he bobbed his head, flickered his tongue over the head of his dick before sucking him back down again, didn’t have to fake the little moan that escaped him. Felt Lafayette’s cock twitch in his mouth, wished he was tasting skin and precome instead of latex, but such was life. Let Lafayette’s cock hit the back of his throat, gagged a little, pushed passed it to swallow his entire length, mouth and throat impossibly full. 

“Oh, J, you are incredible…” Lafayette murmured. Tugged at John’s hair again, hips hitched gently. 

John moaned loudly in response, a little put on but not totally fake. Let himself zone out a little, slick sounds of his mouth around Lafayette’s cock loud in his ears, lost himself in the motions a little bit, jaw stretched, tongue soft under the hot weight of Lafayette’s cock. 

So it surprised him when Lafayette gripped his chin gently and forced him to still. 

“J. Stop,” Lafayette’s voice, firm and gentle and a little bit sad. 

John’s eyes snapped open and he looked up at Lafayette.

“Mmph?” He asked, mouth still wrapped around the first two inches of Lafayette’s cock. 

“Stop,” Lafayette repeated, slid his hips back so his cock left John’s mouth with a pop. 

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” John asked. He licked his lower lip, wet with spit, and sat back on his heels when Lafayette let go of his hair. 

Lafayette stood up, hiked his boxer briefs back up, and raked his hands through his hair. He paced over to the window, distress in every line of his body, looked uneasy, looked upset. 

John shifted up to sit on the edge of the bed, watching Lafayette.

“Laf? Baby? Tell me what’s wrong…” John prompted, voice soft. It wouldn’t have been the first time sex turned into talk therapy, the intimacy created by the physical often opening the floodgates on the emotional. 

Lafayette sighed, shoulders drooping. 

“I cannot… I cannot do like this to you, I do not want to treat you this way…” Lafayette tugged at his hair, took a deep breath, turned around and looked at John with such a sad look on his face that John just wanted to hug him. 

“Come here Laf…” John patted the bed beside him, smiled softly. 

Lafayette paced the length of the room instead, hands in his hair, looked a little pained. 

“Why does what we were doing upset you?” John asked, watching Lafayette, felt his own heartstrings tug at Lafayette’s distress. 

“It is so impersonal, and I don’t… I can’t… I thought that I could just be selfish for a night, just take pleasure, but that is not fair on you. I do not want to just use you with no, ah, care, for your pleasure too. It does not please me, you are too sweet, too beautiful…” Lafayette rambled on, hands in the air now, like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. 

“It’s my job... I’m… Lafayette, it’s what you’re paying me for, it’s alright,” the word ‘whore’ on the tip of John’s tongue but he bit it back, didn’t want to cheapen Lafayette like that. 

“I do not care, J-”

“John.”

“What?” Lafayette stopped, and looked at John. 

“My name’s John,” John sighed. He patted the bed again, gave Lafayette an entreating look. 

Lafayette sat next to him, hands on his knees. 

John reached out, took one of Lafayette’s hands in his and squeezed reassuringly. 

“It’s really kind of you to care if I’m having a good time too. I am, swear it. You’re fun and kind and sexy as hell. Here, lie on your stomach, let me give you a massage and you can tell me what’s going on, okay? Sometimes it feels good to get it off your chest to someone you don’t ever have to see again,” John brought Lafayette’s hand to his lips, kissed those long fingers sweetly. Smiled. 

Lafayette smiled softly in return, and nodded. He stood up just long enough to strip his jeans and underwear off, then stretched out on his stomach. 

John wriggled out of his tight jeans, took a moment just to admire the view… 

“Honestly, you’re gorgeous. I saw you, couple days ago, you know,” John murmured. He straddled Lafayette’s ass, sat lightly on him, knees on either side of Lafayette’s hips. “Thought you were stunning then, too.” John leaned forwards, ran his hands down the length of Lafayette’s back. Pushed in with his knuckles and dragged them back up. 

“That was you!” Lafayette turned his head to the side, tried to look back at John. 

John pushed at his shoulder, made him stay down. Dug his fingers in and slowly worked his way all over Lafayette’s back, the slow, calm motions settling and grounding him. 

“It was,” John let his eyes close, sighed as some of his own nervousness melted away. 

“But, oh! You looked so cute that morning in your jacket, nose all pink from the cold. I’d have snatched you up right then if I’d known!” Lafayette exclaimed. 

John laughed, couldn’t help it. 

“Damn. Well, you’ve got me now,” John replied. Worked his knuckles into the sides of Lafayette’s neck, up to his ears and back down. Was rewarded with a low moan of pleasure. 

Silence fell, then, but it was comfortable, Lafayette’s body warm under John’s hands. 

John could have done this for hours, could have gotten lost in the soothing rhythm of it, Lafayette’s body slowly relaxing beneath him. 

After a while, Lafayette turned his head to the other side. Sighed. 

“I was engaged. She left me, a year ago. Said we weren’t ever going to be a good fit, that I couldn’t give her what she needed, that she wanted to do more, see more, did not want to settle… I… I took it very hard. I thought that if you loved someone, then the rest of it should not matter, that love is enough to overcome anything else. She disagreed. I spent a few months trying to convince her to come back, to no avail. So, I came here, to get some space myself. I… am alright, now. I understand that she is much happier now, and I do not miss her so much, but I fear I cannot make someone happy, that I do not have enough to give to a relationship… but I was lonely, and so I thought perhaps this would be easier, if I could just let someone pleasure me... “ Lafayette sighed, and shrugged a little. “It is not. I… I do want you, John, but I want you to enjoy it. I would like it very much if you would let me make you feel good?” Lafayette twisted, serious look on his handsome face. 

John sat back, stared for a moment, then nodded. 

“If that’s what you want, hell, how can I say no?” He grinned. 

Just like that, Lafayette’s expression changed from deep seriousness to a wolfish grin, and then he twisted and John found himself on his back, Lafayette above him. He swooped down, kissed John, then slid down his body. 

“Can I suck your cock?” He asked. 

John swallowed hard. Nodded. 

“Please.”

Lafayette leaned over to his jeans, dug out a condom, ripped it open, and rolled it down John’s cock. He stroked his tongue up John’s length, and John grabbed fistfuls of blanket, let out a long breath. 

“Oh sweet thing, what would it cost to have you all to my own so that I may taste your cock for real?” Lafayette breathed, and then he was swallowing John’s cock whole, enveloping him in wet heat, and John was hard pressed not to buck up into Lafayette’s mouth, and he elected not to answer even as the question yanked on his heart strings. It wasn’t fair, dammit, that such a stunning man would ask him that right before sucking his cock, and probably wouldn’t mean it at all. 

Lafayette bobbed his head, cheeks hollowed, tongue stroking skillfully at the underside of John’s cock, and John’s eyes rolled back in his head and he arched up, mouth opening on a moan. 

“Oh fuck, god damn your mouth Lafayette, holy hell,” John babbled. Hadn’t had a blow job this good in ages. Hell, in ever. 

Lafayette moaned softly back, pulled off to swirl his tongue around the head of John’s cock, then swallowed him down again, stroked at his inner thigh, cupped his balls and caressed them as he bobbed his head a little faster, sucked a little harder, and oh shit, there it was-

“Gonna come, fuck, fuck, Laaaaaf!” John reached down, tugged at Lafayette’s hair, tried to tug him off. 

Lafayette shook his head, swallowed John’s cock to the root as John’s orgasm slammed into him, flooding the condom as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over his body, wringing him out, left him panting and trembling on the bed, cock twitching, breathy moans on his lips. 

Lafayette pulled off slowly, stripped the condom from John’s cock and tossed it neatly into the garbage can, and crawled back up the bed. 

“May I kiss you?” He asked, stroked a hand down John’s chest. 

John nodded, breathless and boneless on the bed. 

Lafayette leaned in and they kissed, slow and sweet, and John’s heart thudded in his chest. Felt like this could last forever, never wanted it to end…

\--

Almost cried when Lafayette counted out John’s money, folded it up, and handed him the wad of bills in the early light of morning, both of them blinking sleepily. Had wanted to forget it would come to this, almost wanted to say no, to push it back, tell Lafayette forget the money, just keep him please. 

Couldn’t do that.

Besides, Lafayette would just laugh at him, tell him to get out, go away. People like him didn’t need people like John.

Still. 

They’d stayed up the entire night. John had sucked Lafayette’s cock again, and then they talked the night away. Jerked each other off in the shower, John’s forehead on Lafayette’s shoulder, all steam and panting breath and whispered words. Then talked and talked and talked some more. 

Shared a baguette with brie and a bottle of champagne at four am just because they could. Traded kisses until sunrise, and now… 

John pocketed the money in the inner pocket of his jacket, zipped it up safely. Stepped in to kiss Lafayette goodbye, chaste and quick. Stepped away again, and was caught by Lafayette’s hand on his elbow.

“I would very much like to see you again, John. Might I have your number?” Lafayette asked. 

John swallowed hard. Closed his eyes. Opened them again and shook his head. 

“No. Message me on Spyce?” He offered, tried to sound more upbeat than he felt. 

Lafayette shook his head, a little sad.

“Please? I promise I will not harass you, but if you are not comfortable… here. Let’s do this.” Lafayette grabbed the hotel notepad and pen, scrawled his name and phone number on it and ripped the sheet off. Handed it to John, and stepped back. “Please, feel free to text or call me, and I will message you on Spyce, in the meantime.” 

John folded the small sheet of paper, tucked it into the zippered pocket with the money and his wallet, and nodded, speechless. 

“Okay. Thank you, Lafayette. I had a wonderful night, truly,” John bit his lower lip, kissed Lafayette goodbye one last time, and ducked out the door before he could change his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally added a whole extra chapter whoops. 
> 
> what was that about this fic being 10k words tops? ahah. hah. ha. yeah.

In the end, John texted Lafayette almost right away. 

He got home and pulled the cash from his pocket, unfolded it and counted it out a second time… 

Blinked, and counted it a third time. 

Swore, and dropped the stack of bills on his bed, pulled his phone and the folded stationery from his pocket, typed in the phone number, and typed out a hurried text. 

**John:** Yo you overpaid me by like a thousand dollars. 

Stared at the money, then pulled open his desk drawer, stuffed it into the bulging envelope there. Needed to get to the bank to deposit it, didn’t feel safe having it here in an envelope like that. Almost, with this new addition, had enough for a whole year of tuition. 

Did not, however, have a portfolio to apply with. 

Eyed the covered canvas in the corner again, and shrugged. 

His phone dinged, and he scrambled to pick it up. 

**Laf:** Non. You do not charge enough.

John threw his phone back down on the bed. Wanted to scream, cry, laugh, didn’t even know, really. How could someone be so nice, so generous and kind and smart and handsome… 

It wasn’t fair that he had to be a client, that he couldn’t have just been normal, met Lafayette like a fairytale by happenstance or some shit, one of those stories that people told at weddings and made everyone else swoon. 

“Ugh!” John hung up his jacket, peeled his T-shirt off and flung it in the general direction of the laundry, realized with a start that he didn’t feel like he needed to shower immediately. His skin didn’t crawl, he didn’t feel sick or dirty or shameful, not really. Still wanted a shower, but in a vaguer way, less acute, less urgent. 

“John?” Alex’s head poked around his door, brow furrowed in concern. 

“Hi Alex,” John tugged the spare condom out of his back pocket and tossed it on his desk where it landed on top of his sketchbook. 

“You okay?” Alex stepped into John’s room, uninvited but not unwelcome, and sat on the end of John’s bed. 

“Yeah.” John shrugged. “You should’ve seen this guy, Alex. Holy shit. He’s fucking gorgeous.” John plopped down beside Alex, dropped his head into his hands, and sighed. 

“That… sounds like the opposite of a problem,” Alex said, question in his tone. 

“No but Alex, honestly. It’s a problem. He’s amazing. He’s gorgeous and smart and funny and so sweet holy shit he wouldn’t even let me blow him at first cause he was so worried about being selfish? Like what the fuck, Alex. What the fuck? It’s my job, I’m a whore! I’m literally _there_ and getting paid to suck his dick and he’s worried about being selfish for letting me do it?! What. The. Fuck.” John picked his head back up and stared at Alex staring at him. “He also overpaid me. Like… a lot. On purpose.”

Alex blinked back at John, and shook his head a little. 

“Oh John, is it so hard to believe that someone would want to be sweet to you?” Little hint of bitterness in Alex’s voice, and hell, John couldn’t blame him could he? He’d spent so many years pushing Alex away, afraid to really let him love him, until Alex had given up, had walked away, had chosen Eliza in the end. 

“I’m a whore, Alex. It’s not about being sweet and getting treated well and all that shit. Fuck.” John raked his hands through his hair, could still smell Lafayette on himself, both did and didn’t want to wash it off. “He asked me how much it would cost to have me all to himself.” John huffed a bitter laugh. 

“... so, name your price. Fuck, Laurens, are you dense?! This guy sounds perfect, hell you’re half smitten already -no don’t argue with me I know you, remember?- the guy wants you to be his- fuck, John, you’d have a sugar daddy. Someone you actually like. You’d be safe, you wouldn’t have to go out with people you don’t like, and you could get your tuition saved up for? What’s the problem? Jump on that shit!” Alex reached out, shoved John gently, grinning. “He’s the answer to all your prayers!”

“Because, fuck off Alex, I don’t want to owe anyone anything for this, I want to do it on my own. If I just fall into his lap and let him do it all for me then I’m really not any better than I was before! I mean sure, he’s not a homophobic douchebag, but it’s basically the same thing.” John shrugged. “Besides. People don’t mean shit like that when they say it in the middle of sex. It’s just talk, just fantasy.”

“It’s not though. If he wants to pay you to be his own personal plaything, then that’s your job, you’re not freeloading, you’re working. You’d just be getting paid a hell of a lot better and working in better conditions. The Four Seasons! Come on! Consider it a promotion!” Alex grabbed John’s shoulders and shook him, gently, playfully. 

John shrugged him off and stood up, yanked his jeans down his legs angrily and kicked them off, grabbed a towel and tugged it around his hips. 

“Fuck off Alex. I don’t want to use him like that,” John snapped. 

Alex raised his hands in surrender, stood up too.

“He’s using you…” he said, quietly. 

“Fuck. Off. You don’t get to have an opinion about my life anymore!” John grabbed his shower basket, stalked across the hall. 

“I got to, John! Is it so bad that someone might care about you? I hate seeing you make your life harder than it needs to be!” Alex snapped back, following him into the hall. 

“Shut up Alex, I don’t want to hear it!” John slammed the bathroom door in his best friend’s face. 

“Like that’s any different than ever,” Alex retorted.

“Don’t slam doors!” Hercules shouted from the living room. 

“FUCK OFF HERCULES!” Alex and John shouted back, simultaneously.

Face burning, John dropped his towel on the floor and turned on the shower. Stepped in right away and yelped at the cold, swore under his breath. Shoved his face into the spray with his eyes closed and wished he could drown out the world. 

Slowly, too slow, the water heated up. John stopped shivering, and opened his mouth. Let the water fill it up, sound loud in his ears, inside his head. Felt a little hollow. Knew Alex wasn’t wrong, not really, and felt bad for snapping at him, but just didn’t want to hear it right now, heart heavy, hope a taunting thing just out of reach. 

He scrubbed, brushed his teeth, washed his hair, went through all the motions and didn’t feel comforted by them this time, just felt empty and alone. 

Went to bed the same, curled up under the blankets in the dark, and dropped off almost immediately. 

~*~

Woke up in the evening to another text from Lafayette.

 **Laf:** What are you doing tonight, sweet thing? I would love the pleasure of your company again.

 **John:** Taking tonight off. Maybe tomorrow?

 **Laf:** Tomorrow. Enjoy your time, Little One.

John turned off his phone. Rolled over. Fell back asleep. 

He woke up again to the sound of laughter from the living room, four voices and the tv on. Crawled out of bed and tugged on some loose sweatpants, scraped his hair back into a messy bun, flicked on the lights. 

He tugged the towel off the canvas and sat at his crooked stool in front of it. Stared at the half finished painting - a merman and a seaturtle, not really a self portrait, but not really not, either. Looked at the blue and green colours, the cool serenity of the underwater painting, depth of colour, smooth liquid lines… 

Put the end of his paintbrush in his mouth and chewed on it, tried to dig deep and find the connection he’d made to the painting in the first place, some spark deep down that would enable him to finish it now.

Came up empty.

Put down his paintbrush and tugged the towel back over the canvas, and padded into the living room to join his friends instead.

~*~

Tomorrow rolled around, and John woke up with his heart in his throat. He went through the motions of his workout, ignored Lafayette’s text message until he was done, showered, hair dried. He caught himself with his chin tipped up, finger on the top of his cologne, ready to spritz. Blinked. Shrugged, and spritzed it on, the smell familiar and comforting. 

He really needed to pick up a new bottle. 

Shrugged again and tugged open his desk drawer. Grabbed a few bills out of the envelope and stuffed them in his wallet. He’d go shopping in the morning. He deserved it, after all, and he had enough now that he could afford to spend some. Didn’t have a portfolio to apply to school with anyways, so it wasn’t like he was in a time crunch. 

Could justify it to himself a thousand different ways. 

Finally, picked up his phone and texted Lafayette back.

The cab ride over to the Four Seasons - Lafayette refused to let John take the subway - passed in a blur of nervous energy, John fiddling with his phone, his hair, tugging at his shirt, trying to stay calm, to relax, it was just a job, just another night, just another client. 

Except it wasn’t. 

John swallowed the nagging thought in the back of his head as the cab pulled up in front of the Four Seasons, and before he could even pull out his wallet, Lafayette was there, leaning in the passenger side window, handing the cab driver what looked like far too much money, and smiling his stunning, charming smile. 

“Bonjour mon petit, I am so glad to see you,” Lafayette’s voice was full of warmth and affection, as if John was an old friend or a lover, not just a rentboy. 

“Hi Lafayette.” Still, John couldn’t help but smile as he got out of the cab. Let Lafayette take his hand, kiss him sweetly on the cheek, and lead him inside. 

They chatted their way to the elevator, pleasant small talk, John relaxing more and more with every passing second. Stepped into the elevator, doors closed, John turned towards Lafayette-

And found himself pushed up against the wall, Lafayette’s hands on either side of his head, body pressed in close, trapping him there. 

“I could not stop thinking about you. You have bewitched me, John, and I cannot wait another moment,” Lafayette’s voice was low, heat lacing the words that went straight to John’s dick, made him tremble and moan softly despite himself. 

He didn’t have a chance to respond before Lafayette’s mouth was on his, kissing him deep, tongue licking into his mouth possessively. 

John brought his hands up to Lafayette’s chest, palm flat, fingers splayed, kissed him back and melted into it, breath hitching, and fuck if it didn’t just feel like the most natural thing in the world. 

Lafayette stepped in closer, dropped his hands to John’s hips and lifted him up. 

John wrapped his legs around Lafayette’s waist, held on tight, his back against the mirrored elevator wall. He slid one hand up into Lafayette’s hair, hooked the other arm around his shoulders, kissed him deeper, a little desperate, didn’t have to fake how much he wanted this. 

Lafayette slid one hand to John’s ass, tugged him closer, their cocks rubbing together through the fabric of their jeans.

Lafayette moaned into the kiss, rocked his hips against John. 

John’s cock twitched, hardening in his jeans, and he squirmed against Lafayette, tugged at his hair, pulled back to nip at his lower lip, would have let him take him right here-

The elevator jerked to a halt with a soft ding. 

Lafayette pulled back with an open mouthed grin, and wrapped an arm around John’s waist, kept the other hand firmly on his ass. 

“Too bad this ride is not longer. Ah well, come on sweetheart.” Lafayette kissed John’s nose sweetly, and, of all things, _carried_ John down the hall to his suite.

John held his breath, tried to still his racing heart, let his head rest on Lafayette’s shoulder, eyes closed, couldn’t deny the way being carried like this stirred something deep and needy inside him that he couldn’t quite name. 

He landed on his back on the bed, Lafayette on top of him, their mouths crashing together again, something a little raw, a little desperate in the kiss that made John’s blood heat and his breath catch. 

Lafayette’s hips rolled against him and he moaned, arched up to meet his thrusts, hands scrambling to get under Lafayette’s shirt, to touch him for real, warm skin under trembling fingers. 

Lafayette pulled back from the kiss, kissed John’s ear, ground his hips down against him. 

“You are incredible, so beautiful, so sweet, look at you… John, the way you taste, the sound of your voice, the way you tremble beneath me, just look at you, you are so perfect…” Lafayette’s fevered, hurried words spilled hot into John’s ear, went straight to his cock. He had never, not in all his life, been spoken to like this, with such unbridled passion, such naked need. 

He wrapped his legs around Lafayette’s waist again, tugged him tight, groaned at the feeling of Lafayette’s erection against his own through layers of denim and cloth. His own jeans were damp with precome, Lafayette’s words in his ear making his gut tighten with heat. 

“I could do this all night, just touch you, taste you, make you come, over and over and over again, would you like that John? Would you be a good boy and come for me when I said to?” Lafayette asked, wet lips against John’s ear, delicious friction on his cock. 

“Laf!” John’s hips jerked as his orgasm slammed into him, Lafayette’s question sending him over the edge so suddenly that his eyes snapped open, fingers digging hard into Lafayette’s shoulders as he rutted up against Lafayette, shocks of pleasure making him moan. “Shit, fuck, sorry!” He panted, head falling back, eyes wide. 

Lafayette pulled back and looked down at him, thoughtful expression on his face. 

John blushed under the scrutiny, embarrassed to have come in his jeans like a teenager, wet and sticky and spent. He dropped his gaze away, tried to will his racing heart to slow. 

“Hey, no, oh sweet thing, do not apologize,” Lafayette brushed his thumb across John’s lower lip, gently turned his head back so they were eye to eye, soft smile on Lafayette’s face. “Did my words do that to you?”

John nodded, still blushing furiously. Felt uncomfortable in his own skin, too sensitive, keyed up. 

Lafayette leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet, and John closed his eyes, felt a little close to tears, surprised by the intensity of emotion that sat tight in his chest. 

“I loved it, John. I love to know that my words have this effect on you, please, there is no shame in feeling pleasure.” Lafayette pulled back again, smoothed John’s brow with gentle fingers. “Are you alright?”

John bit his lower lip, nodded. Felt a little like something inside him had been shaken loose. 

Lafayette made a soft sound of disapproval, and just looked at John for a long moment. Shook his head, and stood up from the bed, scooping John up into his arms for the second time that night. 

“Come on little one, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm? Then we’ll see about something to eat.” Lafayette dropped a kiss to John’s forehead and carried him into the luxurious bathroom. Set him down on the counter, and started to turn. 

John reached out and snagged Lafayette’s wrist, stopped him. He slid off the counter, felt all burning up inside, and sank to his knees in front of Lafayette on the plush white bath mat. 

“Please, Lafayette, I want to be good, want to make you feel good too, please let me?” Didn’t feel right, not getting Lafayette off too. 

Lafayette stared down at John, cupped his cheek in his hand and sighed softly, considering. 

“You _are_ a good boy,” he murmured. 

John trembled in response to the praise, that burning up feeling in his chest flaring bright. 

“Please,” he whispered. Licked his lips. Waited.

Lafayette unzipped his jeans, shoved them down his hips. Pulled his cock free of his underwear and leaned over John to snag a condom from the counter. Rolled it on himself, and cupped John’s chin in his hand, fingers soft and gentle. 

“Look how pretty you look, waiting on your knees for my cock. So patient. Such a good, good boy,” Lafayette murmured. 

John felt a little light headed, a little loose. 

“Please, fuck my mouth,” he whispered. Opened his mouth in invitation. 

Lafayette guided his cock into John’s mouth, hand gentle on John’s chin. 

“If you need to stop, tap twice on my leg. I do not want to hurt you by accident,” Lafayette let go of John’s chin, stroked his hand lightly over John’s head as he pushed deeper into the wet heat of John’s mouth. 

John made a soft sound of agreement, tongue loose and relaxed against the weight of Lafayette’s cock. 

Lafayette moaned softly, and began to thrust his hips, shallow and gentle, letting John get used to the motion, his jaw relaxing, breathing easy through his nose, that lightheaded feeling making it easier to give in and allow it to happen. 

“That’s it, so good for me, John, my cock looks so good in your mouth, wish you could see.” Lafayette’s words filled John’s ears, stoked the heat in his chest, made him want to float away on his voice forever. 

Could have done anything so long as Lafayette continued to speak to him that way. 

Lafayette’s thrusts got deeper, quicker, low groan in his chest, the hand on John’s head tangling in his hair, tugging gently. 

“Good boy, oh John, mon dieu…” Lafayette trailed off into a flurry of French, his voice thick with pleasure. 

John moaned softly, let his eyes close, drifted a little on the warm tide of Lafayette’s words, his scent thick in John’s nose, cock pumping in and out of his mouth, fucking him harder, faster. 

Lafayette’s hips stuttered, stilled with his cock deep in John’s throat, and he came with a deep groan, and John wished the condom wasn’t there, wished he was tasting Lafayette’s come, swallowing it down.

Lafayette pulled out of John’s mouth. Tossed the condom away, and leaned down to help John up. 

“Thank you John, you are so sweet, so good. Come here darling, let me care for you,” Lafayette held John close and tender, kissed his forehead, smoothed his hair back. 

John let his head fall against Lafayette’s chest, felt floaty, felt strange. Didn’t really notice Lafayette moving them, turning the shower on, stripping them both of their clothes. 

Twitched a little at the spray of warm water on his back when Lafayette helped him into the shower, pulled him close again in the warm spray and just held him. 

“What’s wrong with me?” John whispered, unused to this feeling, felt unhinged, felt glowy, felt a little not-real. Was glad for Lafayette’s strong arms holding him up. 

“Nothing at all my sweet boy,” Lafayette replied as he squirted some body wash into his hands, began to work it into a lather up John’s back. 

John murmured soft appreciation, leaned into Lafayette, nuzzled his chest.

“I should… be taking care of you,” he mumbled. 

“No. It brings me great pleasure to care for you like this. Sometimes things can get intense, and spark a reaction in us that we do not expect. It is good, when that happens, to let someone look after you,” Lafayette washed John thoroughly with careful, skilled hands. Washed his hair for him, rinsed him off. 

By the time they stepped out of the shower and Lafayette wrapped John in a fluffy white towel, he was beginning to feel more like himself again. 

After, wrapped in plush hotel robes, they lounged on the bed, shared a meal of fresh baguette, fine cheeses, and sliced meats, red wine and conversation flowing between them as easily as if they had known one another forever. 

When the last of the wine was gone, John leaned in for a slow kiss, the night unfolding before them, Lafayette’s company an unexpected gift.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoop.

The next thing John knew, it was three weeks later and he was leaving Lafayette’s hotel room with a fat envelope in the pocket of his jacket, bouncing on the balls of his feet in the elevator on the way down, heart soaring in his chest, feeling like he’d stepped into a fabulous dream. 

Lafayette was everything John could have ever dreamed of, and when he was with him, he let himself forget that Lafayette was “just” a client, that he would eventually get bored and leave, move onto a newer, shinier toy. When he was with him, he let himself forget that he was just a whore, that he didn’t deserve to be loved and treated like this, that it was bound to come crashing down around his ears soon enough. 

Forgot all of that and just enjoyed being spoiled, enjoyed being handled so expertly, by someone who took such genuine pleasure in his please. 

Enjoyed taking a break from working the streets, hadn’t opened Spyce in two weeks, was just riding this until it inevitably crash landed. 

Knew the fallout would be hard.

Couldn’t bring himself to steel himself against it. 

Tried to sock away the money Lafayette was paying him, but was it so bad to treat himself to some new clothes? A new phone? A massage? A new bottle of cologne?

Shrugged it all off and just rode the high. Enjoyed sharing meals with Lafayette, talking with Lafayette, showing Lafayette photos of sketches and paintings he’d actually completed. Enjoyed lying in Lafayette’s arms all night long, sated and glowing with a satisfaction he had never felt before. Enjoyed it all, soaked it up like a flower to the sun. 

He opened the envelope when he got home, and found, along with the usual wad of cash - Lafayette seemed to just give John whatever he had handy, always different amounts, always far too much - a second, smaller envelope. 

Curious, John stuffed the cash into his desk drawer, and sat on the edge of his bed. He thumbed the envelope open and pulled out more cash, wrapped in a folded piece of paper. 

Frowning in confusion, John unfolded the note.

_Little One,_

_Use this to buy yourself something pretty, for you to wear the next time we are together. Whatever you would like, for my eyes only._

_Xo  
Laf_

John blushed scarlet, read the note over and over again. 

Got up and hurried back down the hall to the kitchen. 

“Eliza!” John burst into the kitchen, money and note still in his hand, edge of panic in his tone. 

Eliza paused, raised an eyebrow at John, knife poised mid-chop over a half sliced zucchini. Onions and garlic simmered in a pan on the stove, apron tied tight around Eliza’s slim waist, picture of domesticity that the house had lacked before her. 

“Yes John?” She started chopping again, the picture of calm. 

“Where can I buy lingerie?!” John asked, voice a little shrill. 

At the table, Hercules choked on his coffee, and Burr just stared at John as if he’d gone mad. 

“What sort of budget are we talking here?” Eliza kept chopping, totally unfazed, as if John asked her where to buy lingerie every day. She scraped the zucchini into the pan, gave it a stir, and started slicing mushrooms. “Do you want breakfast?”

“No, I’m fine thanks. Uh…” John fanned out the bills with his thumb. “... a lot.”

Eliza twisted, eyes widening at the wad of cash in John’s hand. 

“Uh, wow, okay. Go to Agent Provocateur on Madison Ave!” She turned back to the pan, gave the veggies another stir, started chopping a sausage. 

“Thanks Eliza!” John reached around her to snatch a slice of baguette from the basket on the counter, ignored the way Burr and Hercules were both still staring at him like he’d grown another head, and turned around to head back to his room just as Alex shuffled in, yawning. 

“S’goin’ on?” He mumbled, sleepy. 

“John’s on a mission to spend a small fortune on lingerie,” Eliza responded without missing a beat. 

Alex blinked. Poured himself a coffee. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, brows furrowed. 

“John.” Eliza pointed at John with her spatula. “Small fortune.” She pointed at the bills in John’s hand. “Lingerie.”

John blushed, suddenly the focus off all four of his housemates’ bewildered attention, fully aware of the ridiculous amount of money in his hand. 

Alex blinked again, and raised his mug to his lips. Drained half his coffee without pausing. 

“It’s too early for this. John, I think we need to have a conversation about budgeting,” Alex refilled his mug, and collapsed into a chair at the table. 

“Later,” John replied, and fled the room. 

~*~

Lafayette met John on the sidewalk as always, paid for the cab, guided John into the hotel with a hand on the small of his back.

They chatted up the elevator, John tucked against Lafayette’s side, basking in his warmth. He couldn’t help but blush a little at the thought of what he wore beneath his jeans and long sleeved shirt, half hard and a little keyed up just from anticipation, wondering what Lafayette would think, if he’d made the right choices. 

Lafayette guided him to the suite, where the lights were dimmed low, small plate of appetizers and a bottle of wine waiting already. 

John’s heart hammered in his chest, and he stayed tucked close to Lafayette’s side. Tilted his head up for a soft kiss. 

“You are exquisite my dear. Come, let’s eat first?” Lafayette guided John to sit, and John wasn’t sure he’d survive a meal, body almost vibrating with the need to show Lafayette that he’d done as he was asked, with hope that he’d chosen right. 

He picked at the food, beef carpaccio on toasted baguette, soft cheese, grilled veggies, couldn’t really focus through that now familiar heat building in his chest, floaty feeling starting in his head. 

He sipped his wine, listened to Lafayette talk, wanted to float away on this forever. 

“You are quiet tonight, sweet thing. Are you alright?” Lafayette asked, setting his utensils down and leaning forwards to put a hand on John’s knee. 

“Mmmhmm,” John nodded, smiled. Blushed a little. Squirmed in his seat. “I did like you wanted, Laf. Bought something pretty to wear…” He stood up, fingers trembling, looked at Lafayette with lowered lashes as he stepped back a bit. 

“Oh? Did you now? What a good boy you are… show me?” Lafayette turned in his seat, legs spread, watched John closely. 

John blushed a little deeper, hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and shifted his hips from side to side, little nervous.

“I hope you like it…” he whispered. Unzipped his jeans, felt like this was the first time he had ever undressed in front of anyone, felt shy, felt like everything was brand new. Hyper aware of the slide of denim down the silky thigh highs he wore, blush peach pretty against his warm, freckled skin. He stepped out of his jeans, long shirt falling to the tops of his thighs where the thigh highs rode, clipped into a garter belt, thin line of bare skin between shirt hem and their lace tops. 

“Oh… you are pretty…” Lafayette murmured, looking at John like he was the only thing that mattered at all. 

John toyed with the hem of his soft shirt, shifted his weight from foot to foot, teasing, feeling the silky fabric of the thigh highs as his legs rubbed together. Felt himself getting harder just from this. 

He tugged the shirt up and off in one smooth motion. Let it drop behind him. Let his gaze drop to the floor and stood still, trembling, letting Lafayette look. 

He’d chosen the blush peach because of how it looked against his bronzed skin, warm and delicate and soft. The babydoll fluttered loose over his stomach, gauzy, delicate material flowy and soft, lace top over his pecs, the delicate straps threading up over his shoulders to an intricately laced back. His cock was trapped in a lace thong of the same colour, 

Held his breath in the silence that fell. 

“Mon dieu…” Lafayette breathed. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

John peeked up at Lafayette through his lashes, shy. 

“Come here,” Lafayette patted his lap, reached out a hand. 

John stepped forwards, took Lafayette’s hand and let him guide him to sit in his lap. He shivered where Lafayette brushed his bare shoulder, heat blooming in the wake of gentle touch.

“You are the most stunning thing I have ever seen,” Lafayette whispered. He cupped John’s cheek with his hand, guided him into a kiss so soft and sweet that John’s heart stopped beating. “Come here sweetheart, let me take care of you. You are so beautiful, so good to do just as I asked, let me reward you.” Lafayette lifted John up, cradled him close, and lay him out on his back on the bed. 

John gazed up at Lafayette, felt a little lost in the fog of his own head already, little glowy, little warm. He squirmed on the soft sheets, reveled in the glide of silky stockings against the bed, arched prettily. 

Lafayette watched with a soft smile, then peeled his own shirt and jeans off, came to his hands and knees above John. 

“Look at you, sweet thing, just begging to be touched.” Lafayette stroked his hand down John’s side, and John arched into the touch with a sigh of pleasure. “Such a good boy.” He leaned down, kissed John slow and sweet as his hand stroked all over John’s body, delicate touches to his hips, his stomach, his chest. Light, teasing, slow. 

John kissed Lafayette back, felt like he was drowning and never wanted to come up for air. Arched and moaned beneath the gentle touches, soft lace of the thong damp with precome. 

“You look-” Lafayette kissed down John’s chest. “-so-” nipped and nuzzled down his stomach. “-beautiful.” Paused to look at John’s straining cock, trapped under delicate peach lace. Caught the string at John’s hip in his teeth and pulled back, let it snap against John’s skin. 

John yelped, giggled softly, squirmed underneath Lafayette’s gaze. 

Moaned loudly, his hands going to Lafayette’s head when Lafayette nosed at his cock through the lace. Breathed in deep and moaned in delight. 

“Laf,” John panted. Hitched his hips, spread his legs a little more, cock rubbing against Lafayette’s face. 

Lafayette mouthed at his cock through the lace, hand on John’s inner thigh, fingers stroking. 

It wasn’t enough. 

John wriggled against him, whined plaintively. Wanted more, needed more. Felt like he was going to float away. 

“Please, Laf, I want you to fuck me, I want you to finger me,” John panted, fingers tangling in Lafayette’s hair, tugging. 

Lafayette stilled against him, open mouthed against his cock. Lifted his head. 

“No sweetheart. This is something you said you do not want,” he said, voice quiet, even.

John tossed his head back and forth on the bed, breath catching. Felt desperate, felt needy, couldn’t Lafayette see how badly he wanted it now?

 

“But I do! I want it, I want you, need your cock, please Laf!” He begged. 

“No. you are not in a frame of mind to make this decision, John,” Lafayette replied firmly.

John shocked himself by bursting into tears.

“You don’t want me! Please, please Lafayette, need you so bad, don’t you want me? Don’t you like me?” Couldn’t stop the torrent of tears or desperate words, felt completely unhinged. 

“Shh, hey, hey. Easy,” Lafayette shifted up the bed, gathered John into his arms, kissed his forehead. “Of course I want you, of course I do. I like you very much, and I ache to be inside you. How could I not?”

John buried his face in Lafayette’s neck, tried to shake himself out of it, tried to stop crying, cheeks hot with desperate need, shame at his tears. 

“Then why not?” He demanded, voice shaky, body shaky. He tried to take a deep breath, shaky with tears, couldn’t slow his heart back down. 

“Because this is not the time or place to make such a decision, darling. I would not want you to regret anything that transpired between us because you made a choice in the heat of the moment.” Lafayette pulled back, kissed John’s forehead, brushed his tears away with gentle fingers. 

John sniffled. Stared pleadingly at Lafayette, his lower lip trembling. 

“Please don’t cry John. I hate to see you sad. Think about this, when you are away from me, and if it is still something you want, I would love very much to make love to you.” Lafayette leaned in and kissed him, and John melted against him, tears slowed, knew in the back of his mind somewhere, some part of him that was still functioning correctly, that Lafayette was right. 

Still. 

Wanted it so very badly.

Lafayette pulled back, rested his forehead against John’s, and John met his gaze, felt safe, felt protected, felt calmer. 

“May I make you feel good, John? Please sweetheart? It hurts me to see you so upset,” Lafayette whispered. 

John swallowed hard. Nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back. 

Lafayette slid his hand between them, rubbed at John’s cock with his palm, gentle, slow. 

“No need, little one. No harm done,” he responded. 

John arched into the touch, breath hitching as Lafayette rubbed him to full hardness again, then tugged the lace thong down and curled his hand around John’s cock. 

“I will let you come this once, and then you are not to come again until I say, alright?” Lafayette murmured, thumb sweeping back and forth over the dripping head of John’s cock. 

John’s breath caught in his throat, that low hum of submission starting up in his bones again. 

“Yes,” he breathed. Hiked his leg up onto Lafayette’s hip and rocked down, pushing his cock into Lafayette’s hand. 

“Good boy. Do you have safewords you prefer?” Lafayette placed a soft kiss on John’s nose, tightened his hand, stroked him slow and steady. 

“Stoplight system?” John asked, mind more focussed on Lafayette’s hand stroking him, the tightness in his balls and gut, heat and pleasure building. 

“Very good,” Lafayette said. He let go of John momentarily, twisted to grab a small bottle of lube from the nightstand, and poured some into his hand. He rolled back, kissed John, licked deep into his mouth, and curled his fingers around John’s cock once more. 

John groaned into the kiss, rocked his hips a little, fucked into Lafayette’s slick hand, didn’t want to wait anymore, just wanted to come. Lost himself in his own pleasure, Lafayette’s hand tight around him, Lafayette’s tongue stroking his mouth like John belonged to him and him alone. 

Lafayette tightened his hand, teasing, pulsing squeezed that made John’s eyes roll back in his head. 

He came with a loud moan, hips stuttering against Lafayette’s hand, streaking the sheets and Lafayette’s fingers with come. 

“You’re so good for me,” Lafayette whispered, stroking John through his orgasm until John was shaky and spent, panting with his head pillowed on Lafayette’s arm. “Rest a moment, and then we will do that again.” 

John nodded, breathing hard. Nuzzled into Lafayette’s neck and closed his eyes, tried to steady his heart, tried to anchor himself. 

Hummed soft appreciation when Lafayette stroked down his back, pulled him close, kissed his head, so sweet and gentle. 

Too soon, not soon enough, Lafayette was nudging him over onto his back, kissing down his neck, hand teasing him back to hardness. 

“You tell me if you’re going to come, okay? Can you be good, can you do that for me?” Lafayette asked as he kissed back down John’s body, nosed at his cock through the lace for the second time that night. 

John swallowed hard, nodded. Still felt shaky, all undone, but wanted to be good, could be good, would do whatever Lafayette asked. 

“Good boy,” Lafayette murmured. He tugged at the thong, the string rubbing against John’s hole, mouthed at John’s cock through the fabric. 

John squirmed, panted, already desperate for this to last for ever, and for Lafayette to let him come immediately. 

Lafayette teased him like this, toying tugs at the thong, sloppy, teasing mouthing through the lace. Tugged it down just enough so that the head of John’s cock popped free, and stroked it with gentle fingers, slick glide of precome making John moan and whine, until, impossibly, he felt like he could come just from this.

“Laf!” He warned, breathless.

“Good boy,” Lafayette breathed, and he stopped, and John felt his body come down, relax, orgasm ebbing away before it could hit, and he wanted to cry and he squirmed against the feeling, cock twitching against Lafayette’s still palm. 

“Laf,” he whined, threading his fingers into Lafayette’s hair. 

“Shh, be good now. You can do it,” Lafayette chided softly. 

John took a deep breath, tried to steady himself. 

Lafayette hooked his fingers in the strings of the thong, tugged it down and off, squirted some more lube into his hand and curled his hand around John’s cock. Stroked him hard and fast, like he was trying to get him off now, like he wanted him to come. 

John arched his hips into the touches, pleasure building fast, promise of release making him almost dizzy. Almost forgot to tell Lafayette, to warn him, so sure he wanted John to come.

“Laf, Laf! Gonna come!” John yelped, almost too late. 

Lafayette let him go, left him gasping and untouched, whole body tingling, orgasm robbed from him. 

“Laf!” He wailed, tossing his head back and forth, fingers tugging at Lafayette’s hair. 

“Good boy, that’s it, good boy,” Lafayette murmured.

“Thought you were gonna let me come,” John whimpered. 

“Not yet sweet thing, not yet,” Lafayette responded. 

Waited a moment while John panted on the bed, untouched, aching, desperate, feeling a little foggy headed, all lit up inside. 

Lafayette ripped open a condom, rolled it down John’s aching, sensitive cock. Looked up his body at John, flushed and needy and panting.

“Colour check, baby?”

“Green,” John breathed. 

Lafayette swallowed his cock in one quick motion. 

“Ah! Fuck, fuck, Laf!” John’s hips jerked, couldn’t help it, and he arched off the bed, desperate. 

Lafayette’s fingers curled around the base of John’s cock, tight, mimicking a cock ring, and squeezed. He bobbed his head, sucked John’s cock tight and fast, his hot wet mouth driving John’s pleasure higher, precome leaking into the condom. 

He felt like he was on fire, too much, too good, so desperate to come, so desperate to be good, to do as Lafayette asked.   
Lafayette’s tongue lapped at the head of his cock, and it was too much, too much, and thank god for Lafayette’s fingers clamped down around his cock or he’d have come before Lafayette said he could, would have disappointed him, couldn’t bear the thought.

“So close, gonna come, Laf,” John whined, voice breathy and far away sounding to his own ears. 

Lafayette pulled off his cock, let him go, sat up.

“You’re being so good for me sweetheart. Can you suck my cock now? Make me come?” Lafayette unzipped his jeans as he spoke, pulled his cock free of his underwear. Rolled a condom onto his cock and stroked himself, light and slow and lazy. Stayed dressed otherwise. 

John nodded, rolled onto his hands and knees eagerly and sprawled out onto his stomach in front of Lafayette. 

He batted Lafayette’s hand away from where he was stroking his own cock, gave it a few light strokes with his own fingers, watching Lafayette’s face, before he brought his mouth to the head, lapped at him with teasing licks of his tongue. 

“Oh John, oh sweet thing,” Lafayette stroked his head gently. 

John parted his lips, sucked the head of Lafayette’s cock into his mouth, let his eyes close as Lafayette groaned deep in his throat, and took him the rest of the way into his mouth. 

John bobbed his head, cheeks hollowed, his tongue lapping at the underside of Lafayette’s cock.

“Your mouth is exquisite, little one,” Lafayette moaned, tangling his fingers in John’s hair. 

John moaned back, floated away on Lafayette’s praise, pulled back and swirled his tongue over the head before swallowing him deep again, lost himself in the rhythm of it. 

He squirmed, rocked his hips gently, cock rubbing into the sheets. Moaned loudly at the friction of it. Was so keyed up he probably could have gotten off like that, Lafayette’s cock in his mouth, Lafayette’s praise in his ears, hips rutting into the sheets. 

He whined and moaned, swallowed Lafayette deep as his own orgasm started to build, breath catching in his throat, he was so close, he was almost there-

“I don’t think I told you you could do that?” Lafayette asked, voice mild, disapproving.

John’s hips stilled instantly and he swallowed around Lafayette’s cock, eyes filling with tears as the promise of release faded away again, left him tingling and empty and oh so needy. 

Focussed again on sucking Lafayette’s cock, on being a good boy, on bobbing his head in a rhythm designed to get Lafayette off, tongue lapping, cheeks hollow, eyes closed. Lost himself to it again, the soft moaned and hitched breaths from Lafayette’s mouth.

“Good boy John, such a good boy,” Lafayette groaned, and then he was coming, hand tight in John’s hair, holding his head still as he rode out his orgasm, hips driving gently into John’s mouth. 

He let go, let John pull off and roll back onto his back while he stripped the condom off and tossed it into the garbage can. 

John felt flushed, feverish. Curled his hand around his cock and stroked himself, desperate, needy, couldn’t help it, needed to come so damn badly. 

“Tsk, you are naughty, John. I didn’t tell you you could touch yourself,” Lafayette chided. 

John let himself go, writhed against the sheets, tears streaming down his face.

“Please Lafayette, please, please, I need to come,” John panted, couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I haven’t decided to allow it yet, John. Be good, I know you can,” Lafayette replied, stretching out lazily beside John. He reached for him, stripped the condom from his cock and tossed it away. Returned with a lubed up hand to stroke John lazily, hand too loose, too slow. 

“Lafayette!” John wailed, frustration bringing more tears to his cheeks. 

“Patience sweet thing,” Lafayette murmured, but he closed his hand, started stroking John in earnest, hand tight and quick, and it was too much, too much after being teased for so long, and John couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t hold it back.

“Yellow! Yellow!” John wailed as his orgasm slammed into him without permission and he came harder than he’d ever come in his life, pumping come over Lafayette’s hand and the sheets, pleasure wringing his body out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He cried, weak with relief, body trembling as he rode out the last shocks of orgasm and went limp against the sheets. 

Lafayette stroked him through, then lifted his hand, dripping with come, to show John.

“Did I tell you you could do that?” He asked, voice soft. 

“No!” John sobbed, tears pouring down his face, couldn’t believe he hadn’t been able to stop it, hadn’t been good.

“Hey, shhh, shh baby, little one, it’s alright,” Lafayette gathered him close, kissed his forehead. “I’m not angry with you, you still did very good.”

“No I didn’t, I didn’t listen, I was bad,” John sobbed, face in Lafayette’s chest, tears streaming down his face, whole body shaking. 

Lafayette held him tight, rocked him gently. 

“You were not bad. Please don’t cry John, it’s alright. I teased you, I pushed too hard, it’s not your fault, come on sweetheart, I promise I’m not upset with you.” Lafayette sat up, gathered John into his arms, and John just curled into him, wrapped his arms around Lafayette’s neck and cried and cried. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, alright? Then have a little rest and a snack if you’d like, and then we can play again. You’re a good boy, you’re such a good boy,” Lafayette stood up with John in his arms and carried him to the bathroom. Sat him on the counter and wet a washcloth with warm water. 

“Y-you’re not mad?” John sniffled. 

“No, how could I be angry with you? When you are so sweet, so generous? You tried your best and that is all I could ever ask from you,” Lafayette carefully wiped the tears from John’s cheeks, kissed his nose, his forehead, his mouth. “Let me care for you now, little one?” 

John nodded, let Lafayette strip the baby doll off him, peel the stockings from his legs. Watched Lafayette undress himself and turn on the water. Felt loose, shaky, all torn apart inside. 

Felt like Lafayette was the only thing keeping him anchored at all. 

Felt terror deep down at that thought. 

Lafayette returned, scooped John up and stepped into the shower with him, warm spray soothing on John’s sensitive skin. 

Lafayette set him down, and John leaned heavily against him, supported by his strong arms. Was vaguely aware of Lafayette soaping up his back, of Lafayette whispering sweet words in his ears. Tried feebly to pull himself back to earth. Couldn’t do it. 

Gave up.

Floated away on a tide of warmth and praise.

~*~

John woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the unfamiliar bed, light streaming in through the curtains. 

Somewhere in the room, his phone buzzed like an angry bee. 

Beside him, Lafayette slept soundly, mouth open, body twisted across the bed. 

John stared around the room, heart pounding, mouth dry. 

He’d fallen asleep with a client. 

He’d fallen asleep with a client. 

He scrambled out of bed, remembering his tears from the night before with shame, how he’d begged Lafayette to fuck him, finger him. Shit. This was anything but good. He yanked on his jeans, hopping on the balls of his feet in his hurry to get them on, zipped them up, realized he had no socks because he’d come here in thigh highs and a garter belt. Blushed as he yanked his shirt on over his head, grabbed his jacket, yanked it on, didn’t look back as he fled the hotel room, foregoing the elevator to run down the stairs, his heart in his throat, lungs burning, felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He felt his phone go off again in the pocket of his jacket and wanted to be sick. Didn’t pull it out, didn’t want to check, didn’t want to know. 

Ran most of the way home, too panicked to sit still on a bus or the subway. 

Was out of breath from panic and exertion by the time he slammed through the front door. 

“Where were you!?” Alex leaped on him immediately. 

“I fell asleep!” John wailed, toeing his shoes off, jogging down the hall. 

Alex followed him into his room, phone in his hand. 

“And you couldn’t text me?!” He shouted. 

“I _fell asleep_ , I can’t text you in my sleep, asshole!” John shouted back, yanking his jacket off and tossing it on the bed. “I didn’t mean to!” 

“And when you woke up!? I’ve been worried sick John, what if something happened to you!?” Alex flung his hands in the air, pacing back and forth over the one strip of clean floor in John’s room. 

“I didn’t think, okay?! I’m sorry! I didn’t do it on purpose!” John yanked his clothes off, tossed them into a far corner, pulled his towel around his waist. “It’s not like I was sitting there thinking ‘gee you know what will make Alex worry?’!” John yanked open the bedroom door, grabbed his shower basket, and stalked across the hall. 

“Don’t walk away from me! You can’t run away every time someone says something you don’t like!” Alex followed him out into the hall.

“I’m not running away, I’m taking a goddamn shower because newsflash, I smell like a prostitute!” John snarled, and slammed the door in Alex’s face. 

“Get your shit together Laurens, I’m fucking worried about you!” Alex hollered through the door. 

“Nobody asked you to be!” John screamed back. 

“I’m your best friend, it’s my goddamn job!” Alex yelled as he stalked away down the hall.

John turned on the shower, dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to breathe, tried to calm down. Waited until he could feel steam rising in the air, and then stepped into the tub. Stepped under the spray and opened his mouth to let the water fill it up-

Choked on a sudden sob.

Sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands, sobbing his heart out. How had he managed to make such a mess of things, let himself get in too deep, develop feelings, of all things. It was the cardinal rule of sex work. Don’t fall for your clients. Don’t fall for your clients. Don’t fall for your fucking clients John Laurens.

It was no use.

It was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

John woke up feeling miserable, late afternoon sun trying to peek in past his blinds, phone face down on his desk. 

He sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed, and picked it up, pressed the home button. 

Five missed called - two from Alex this morning, and three from Lafayette - and 23 text messages. 

He put the phone back down and dropped his head into his hands. Felt sick to his stomach. 

Picked up his phone again and cleared Alex’s frantic texts from this morning, then opened his message thread with Lafayette.

 **Lafayette:** I am sorry I slept through you leaving this morning. Last night was very intense, please let me know you are alright?

 **Lafayette:** When are you available next? I must pay you for last night as well as our next rendezvous, I am very sorry you had to leave without it.

 **Lafayette:** John? Please let me know you are alright.

 **Lafayette:** John? If I have done something to upset you please tell me. I would like to talk it through, to make it right. 

**Lafayette:** John?

 **Lafayette:** Little one?

 **Lafayette:** at least let me know you’re okay?

John swallowed hard, stared at the messages that had started in the morning, and carried on through the day while he slept. As he watched, another one came through.

 **Lafayette:** ...I am so very sorry if I have hurt you.

John’s vision blurred and watered, and he turned his phone off with trembling fingers. Put it down. Got up and tugged some baggy sweatpants on, didn’t bother with a shirt. Padded down the hall in his bare feet, into the living room. 

Alex looked up from his laptop. 

“Shit John you look like hell,” he said. 

“Fuck you too Alex,” John snapped, kept going into the kitchen. 

He opened the fridge and stared into it blankly, closed it again. Couldn’t quite get his brain online. Stood still with his hand on the door handle of the fridge.

“What I mean to say-”

“-can you fuck off?-”

“-was I’m sorry,” Alex finished, leaning against the counter next to John. 

John closed his eyes, dropped his head to the front of the fridge and just tried to breathe deep. Everything felt too raw, too painful. 

“I was worried about you, but that doesn’t mean I get to be a dick to you. I’m sorry John,” Alex’s voice was soft, honest. Surprising. 

John opened one eye and looked at his best friend, raised an eyebrow. Had never known Alex to back down from a fight.

“‘Liza teaching you a thing or two, huh?” He asked, teasing. 

Alex laughed, nodded.

“Yeah. You okay, Laurens?” Alex’s intense eyes watched him closely, Alex’s familiar frame, with a softness that was new and becoming. Something John had never been able to nurture there, too busy fighting and fighting to allow anything tender to grow. 

“No,” John replied, hoarse. Closed his eyes again and shook his head.

“Did he hurt you? Cause if he hurt you-” There was the fight, the spark, the jump the gun, fight first ask later Alex John was used to. 

It almost made him smile. 

“No. I just fucked everything up. Big surprise,” John huffed a bitter laugh. 

“John,” Alex’s voice was firm. 

John looked up, and Alex was still there, leaning against the counter, but his arms were open, silently offering a lifeline. John took it. He pushed off the fridge and stepped into Alex’s arms, dropped his chin on Alex’s shoulder and sighed heavily.

“What happened?” Alex hugged him tight, familiar arms, familiar scent, all of it comforting.

“You know what happened,” John replied glumly, staring at the wall. “Fell for my client like some sort of goddamn fool. Like this was some sort of fucking fairytale and not real life.”

Alex rubbed his back, said nothing for once in his life.

“I haven’t touched my portfolio in weeks, Alex,” John admitted in a whisper, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t have nearly as much saved up as I should. I hate sucking cock for money. I’ve got nothing. I’m never getting into college. I give up.”

Alex sighed. Hugged John tighter. 

“Okay,” he said, quiet.

It was the last thing John expected. 

He pulled back, blinked at Alex through teary eyes. 

“What?” 

“Okay,” Alex repeated. “You give up. So let’s go watch dumb movies and eat shitty food and forget about it for a while.” 

“Okay,” John whispered. 

He let Alex steer him into the living room, sit him down on the couch and toss a throw blanket over his lap. Let Alex put on a movie and order chinese food and text Herc to bring home beer, and zoned out on shitty movies and shitty TV, surrounded by friends. 

He left his phone off for three days. Moped around the house. Knew he was being ridiculous and couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stand the way his roommates were treating him with kid gloves. Couldn’t bring himself to pull it together. 

Left the house on the fourth day. Went to MoMa, and wandered around, felt so out of touch with art, with himself, with everything. Looked at all the stunning pieces, and just felt disillusioned and sad. 

Went out that night, dressed to kill. Made a fraction of the money he would have made with Lafayette, but didn’t learn a single name, no feelings in the back alley transactions, just John on his knees with a nameless cock in his mouth. Felt almost good to do something so cut and dry, to remind himself that this was real life, and he was nothing but a worthless whore. 

Came home and stood in the shower for what felt like forever, water filling up his mouth, eyes closed.

Fell face down into bed and cried himself to sleep. 

Slept like he was dead, got up the next evening, took three shots of Herc’s whiskey, and did it all over again. 

Turned on his phone and deleted all of Lafayette’s missed calls and texts without reading them. 

Deleted Spyce. 

Picked a fight with Alex. 

Got wasted off a bottle of expensive red wine and sobbed into the toilet with his head in Hercules’ hands while he vomited it back up in the middle of the afternoon. 

Woke up in the evening still half drunk and dragged himself out the door again. 

~*~

Focussed on putting one foot in front of the other on the long walk home in the sunrise, his head pounding, mouth dry, taste of latex heavy on his tongue. Didn’t really notice where he was walking until a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“John?” Lafayette ran towards him, and John stopped walking, closed his eyes, wished the sidewalk would swallow him whole. Didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see his face, knew it would be all over if he did. “John! Are you alright? I’ve been so worried about you! What happened?” Lafayette reached out, gripped John’s shoulders gently. 

John flinched backwards out of his grasp. 

“Don’t touch me,” he said, voice flat. 

“John?” Lafayette’s voice turned puzzled. “John what’s wrong? If I hurt you I am sorry, please, I only want to talk…”

“No. You didn’t, ugh, fuck. It’s not you okay I just can’t do this anymore! I don’t want this,” John took another step back, weight shifting, bracing to run. 

“You… if you don’t want me, John, that’s alright, all you had to do was say so…” Lafayette’s voice sounded so sad, so hurt, that it broke John’s heart.

“No, that’s not- I don’t- I…” John glared up at Lafayette, looked everything he wanted so badly in the face and steeled himself against it. “I can’t do this with you. I’m just a whore, Lafayette. A whore, or did you forget?” 

“Please, John, I know that is your job, but I have come to think of you as so much more. Please come in, talk with me, tell me why you’re so upset?” Lafayette stepped forwards, and John shook his head, stepping back. 

“No. You can’t fix everything with kisses and showers and sweet words. I’m just a whore, and you’re a fool if you think I’m anything else,” John snapped. Just wanted to run away, wanted to hide, never wanted to come out of his room again. 

Fuck art school, it wasn’t worth all this. 

“I know, but if we just talked, John, maybe I can help? If not as a client, as a friend?” Lafayette held out a hand, and John laughed because if he didn’t laugh he was going to start crying. 

“I’m not your friend,” John sneered. 

“You could be. Please, John. Just talk to me,” Lafayette begged, taking another step forwards.

“Fuck off,” John spat. 

Turned. 

Walked away with his chin lifted and his hands shaking in his pockets, heart hammering in his throat. 

Made it through the front door before he sank to the ground in the hallway and bit his lower lip to choke back the tears. 

Stayed there shaking until Eliza got home and sank to the floor beside him. Slid an arm around his shoulders, and said nothing. 

John let his head drop to her shoulder. 

Stayed there in silence until his skin started to crawl, then pushed himself up off the ground and got into the shower, went through the motions of getting ready for bed. Found no comfort in the routine anymore. Didn’t even bother standing in the spray with his mouth open, listening to the water from the inside out. 

Woke in the evening to a single text from Lafayette.

 **Lafayette:** Please. Just talk to me. I’ll never speak to you again after, if that’s what you want. I care for you, and I just want to be sure you’re alright.

Stared at it for a long time, thumb hovering over the delete button. 

Put his phone down instead. 

Went out that night with his heart in his throat. Felt awake and alive again for the first time in days. Tried to bring back the heavy numbness, the calm apathy. Couldn’t find it in his chest. 

Watched a car slow to a stop at the curb, watched the window roll down. Stepped towards it like countless times before, felt like he was watching himself in a dream. 

Stopped.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Turned around and walked away, the driver’s protests falling on deaf ears. 

There had to be another way.

Went home. Went to bed.

Got up in the morning. Got dressed. Went for a run, music blaring in his ears, rhythmic left right left soothing his aching heart. 

Flopped onto Alex on the couch, pushing into his space, sprawling across him. 

“Hey! Ugh, John you’re fucking soaked, gross,” Alex complained, swatting John’s shoulder. 

“You love me,” John pushed himself up off Alex’s lap and looked at his friend. “So. That conversation you suggested we have about budgeting. Let’s have it.”

Alex blinked at him, then smiled. Nodded. 

“Of course. Just… go have a shower first, you smell.” 

John pulled himself off the couch, got in the shower, didn’t linger there for the first time in weeks, light with the relief of not going to work tonight, of focussing on the future, of trying to do something to change his life, finally. 

Lay in bed that evening, staring at Lafayette’s last text in the dark, thumbs hovering over the keys. 

Fell asleep with the phone still in his hand, text unanswered. 

Woke up the next morning in the dark, sat up, pulled up the blind for the first time in almost a year, and looked around himself for real for the first time in almost as long. 

“Come on John, get it together,” he whispered to himself. Took a deep breath and got up. Swept the loose condoms into a desk drawer. Straightened the towel over the canvas. Picked up his laptop from the floor and set it on the desk. Straightened the papers there. 

Found his sketchbook and put it beside the laptop. Threw out the weeks old dirty paint water, and washed out the glass. 

Padded back into the bedroom and picked the garbage from the floor, crumbled papers and empty condom wrappers, a red bull can, and an old magazine, outdated college brochures and application papers. Threw it all out. Started shoving clothes into a laundry basket, and hauled it down the hall, threw it in the washing machine and started it up. 

He could do this. 

He could get through this.

If nothing else, because he didn’t want to look back in five years, and find he’d drowned beneath the weight of this. 

He’d said he’d do it on his own, and goddamn it, he would.

Shoved the rest of his dirty clothes into the hamper, but paused when he picked up a long sleeved shirt in the corner. Lifted it to his nose with trembling hands. Breathed in. Could still smell Lafayette on it, memory of a low-lit night vivid in his head, the silk glide of peach stockings against his skin. 

Tossed it in the laundry basket too, and picked up his phone. 

Hovered over Lafayette’s name. 

**John:** Okay. Let’s talk.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *side eyes the chapter count*

John fiddled with his scarf as he stepped inside the crowded Starbucks. Spotted Lafayette instantly, seated in an armchair by the fireplace, two drinks waiting on the small table in front of him. 

He took a deep breath and walked over. 

Lafayette spotted him and rose to his feet. Paused, looked like he was going to reach for John and stopped, something heavy and sad passing across his face as he sat back down slowly. 

“John, I’m so glad you came…” he said, and gestured to the empty chair. 

John’s heart ached at the awkwardness, at the space between them. 

“I got you a white mocha, I hope that’s okay?” Lafayette asked, and John nodded and he wanted to cry and he sat down and picked it up, glad just to have something to occupy his trembling hands. 

“It’s perfect, thanks Lafayette,” John pressed his lips to the lip of the lid, heat warming him, too hot to drink yet. 

He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Lafayette, didn’t know how to start, didn’t know what to say. 

Didn’t know how he hoped this would end. 

“John… how can I make things right between us? What have I done that has upset you so much?” Lafayette’s voice was soft and gentle, pleading. He leaned forwards, hand outstretched. 

John looked at Lafayette’s hand, shook his head softly. 

“You didn’t do anything Laf,” he responded quietly. Peeked at Lafayette over the lid of his cup. He took a deep breath. Let it out. “You can’t hire me anymore.”

Lafayette looked stunned, pulled his hand back and stared at John. 

“Why, John? Please, tell me what I’ve done,” Lafayette begged, and John couldn’t stand to look at the hurt on Laf’s face

“Nothing. It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Laf, fuck, you’re perfect-” John’s voice cracked and he shook his head, choked on a bitter laugh. “You’re perfect.” He took a sip from his drink to stop himself from blurting out something he’d regret. 

“Then why?” Lafayette prompted. “Please, John, I have been so worried about you, so worried that I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I would ever want…” 

“No. No. I just…” John took another deep breath, shoulders slumping. Let go of what he knew he couldn’t have. “I quit.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“You… but… what about school?” Lafayette asked. 

“I quit that too,” John shrugged. 

“But John… that was your dream!” Lafayette protested, brows furrowed with worry. 

“Yeah well. Fuck dreaming. I don’t know, Laf. Maybe there’s a way, but I can’t see it right now, and it’s too hard and I just don’t want to think about it. I’m trying to come up with a plan B, but I can’t suck strangers’ cocks for money anymore,” John sipped his drink again, let the sweet coffee wash over his tongue. 

“Is it just money, John? I can give you what you need, please don’t give up on your dreams…” 

John sat back, glared at Lafayette.

“No. You’re not giving me shit. I’m not some fucking charity case and I don’t want to owe anyone anything,” John snapped. 

“You would not owe me anything John. You are my friend and I care for you and I have the means to help you with this. It would make me happy to help you,” Lafayette offered, voice soft. 

“No. Absolutely not. We’re not friends, Laf, god. I’m just a whore.” John stared at the lid of his coffee, heart heavy in his chest. 

“You are not _just_ anything, John. Just because our relationship began as one thing does not mean it cannot become another thing… I like you very much, and I would like to help you regardless of what our relationship is or is not, because that is what happens when you really care for someone. If you will not accept a gift, would you consider a loan?” Lafayette leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at John beseechingly. 

John swallowed hard, shook his head.

“I can’t. I can’t. I… no. No. Lafayette, I can’t.” John sat back again, drank the last of his white mocha in a long swallow, sticky sweet syrup from the last mouthful cloying on his tongue. 

“Please consider it?” 

“No. I don’t want your money.” John felt a little frantic, couldn’t ever keep himself together around Lafayette and hated himself for it. 

“At least let me pay you for last time?” Lafayette pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it out to John. 

John felt like he’d been doused in ice. Shook his head. Stood up. That, right there, was why he couldn’t do this, why he couldn’t see Lafayette anymore. It would always come back to this. He was just a whore. Nothing more. 

“I don’t want your fucking money Lafayette,” he hissed. “Don’t contact me again.”

Turned around, and walked away.

Left nothing but silence behind him. Didn’t look back. 

Made it outside before he started crying, but kept his chin high, kept walking away, ignored the way each step further felt like a bigger mistake and kept going. 

Felt a little free, no longer trying so hard to reach heights that were never going to be attainable, no longer swallowing his soul down where he couldn’t feel it anymore just to hold on a little longer. 

But mostly just felt empty.

Fell face down on the couch when he got home, face in the couch cushion, shoes still on. Tossed his phone on the coffee table and buried his hands in his hair.

“Fuck my lifeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Interrupted Burr mid-sentence. 

Silence.

“...are you okay, John?” Hercules asked after a long pause. 

“No,” John huffed.

“What’s wrong?” Burr asked, same tone, same gentle voice, almost like he and Hercules were one person instead of two, they had become so tuned into each other so quickly. 

“Lafayette,” John said, pouting.

“I thought Lafayette was perfect,” Hercules commented drily.

“He is. That’s the problem,” John propped his chin on his arm, sighed heavily, his eyes still red rimmed. Watched Herc and Burr watch him with worried eyes. “He.. ugh. He tried to give me tuition money. Said we were friends. Who does that? Tried to loan me money when I wouldn’t just take it, and tried to pay me for the last time we were together. Ugh,” John raked his hand through his hair, frustrated. 

“...and let me guess, you walked away from the conversation without clarifying the intention behind the offer,” Hercules said, eyebrow raised, Burr tucked quietly into his side like an animate shadow. 

“I… hey- that’s not fair- I just can’t, I can’t when I want it to be so much more, Herc!” John buried his face in the cushion and groaned loudly. 

“...did it ever occur to you that maybe he does too?” Herc asked. 

John lifted his head and stared at Hercules. 

“...no? Why the fuck does he keep throwing money at me then?!” John wailed. 

“...because you need it for tuition, and because he literally _owes you money_ if he didn’t pay you for the last time you were together. You can’t get angry with him for upholding his end of an arrangement you agreed to, John, Jesus Christ,” Hercules responded, frustration in his tone. 

John stared. Chewed his lower lip. 

“...I’m being really stupid, aren’t I?” He asked. 

Two heads nodded back at him. 

“But… what if he doesn’t want me like I want him?” Fear lodged deep in John’s heart. Made it hard to breathe. 

“What if he does?” Herc countered. 

“How could he?!” John wailed. 

Hercules opened his mouth to speak, and Burr stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder and a shake of his head. Looked at John. They weren’t close, didn’t necessarily spend time with one another for the sake of it so much as for Herc’s sake, but… 

“Just because you don’t think you’re worth loving, doesn’t mean everyone else thinks that too,” Burr said, voice soft. Glanced at Hercules with the tiniest smile that was all vulnerability, all sweetness. 

John’s heart clenched and his mouth went dry. 

He shook his head, got up, and went to his room, didn’t want to think about it anymore. 

~*~

Woke up a few hours later to the sound of Alex on the phone, speaking French of all things. 

Fell back asleep, didn’t think anything of it.

~*~

Woke up again to knocking on his bedroom door. 

“John! I’m coming in!” Alex hollered, and the door opened as John groaned and pulled his pillow over his head, just wanted to sleep for the rest of the day, not think, not exist. 

Instead, Alex bounced onto the bed and yanked the pillow from his head. 

“Fuck off,” John whined. Tried to snatch the pillow back from Alex. 

“No way man. Got a surprise for you, come on, get up,” Alex pushed at John, and John swatted him. 

“Later, I’m having a nap!” John grabbed the pillow from Alex and hit him with it, couldn’t help but laugh a little even if all he wanted was to be left alone to wallow in misery. 

“It can’t really wait. Just come see, and then you can go back to your nap?” Alex asked, and he pouted prettily, and fuck, John knew how persistent he could be, how he wouldn’t let it go until John did what he asked, and as much as it exasperated John, he had to admit he was curious, so he sat up, stretched, and stood.

“Okay, okay, let’s go.” 

“Hang on,” Alex bounced up from the bed and straightened John’s shirt, licked his thumb and scrubbed at the corner of John’s mouth, fluffed his hair. “There. Come on.”

“Hey! Stop that it’s not like we’re going anywhere!” John laughed, pulling away from Alex’s ministrations. 

“Just trust me on that.” Alex smirked knowingly, took John’s wrist in his hand, and dragged him down the hall into the living room, then stepped to the side and propelled John towards the couch, and on the couch-

“Lafayette?” John stopped short, staring. He whirled on Alex. “What did you do!?”

Alex shrugged, smirked maddeningly, and gestured at Lafayette.

“Talk to him, John, but also listen to him?” he suggested.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” John threatened, but Alex was backing out of the room, hands raised, and Lafayette was sitting on his couch- 

_Lafayette was sitting on his couch._

\- so John let Alex go to murder later, and turned back to Lafayette.

“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you not to contact me anymore, just leave me alone, what do you want?! I’m sure there’s someone else out there to suck your dick better than I did, fuck, just leave me alone!” John shouted, couldn’t handle the way his heart turned over in his chest every time Lafayette was nearby, couldn’t handle how badly he wanted him, didn’t think he’d survive being so near and not being able to have. 

“Is that really what you want, John?” Lafayette asked, voice soft, hands in his lap. He looked calm, body relaxed, brow furrowed with worry and hurt. He looked out of place perched on the ratty blue couch, perfectly put together and so beautiful it hurt. 

“Yes!” John’s voice cracked, desperation in the word, didn’t know how much more he could take.

“...sit? Please?” Lafayette asked. 

John exhaled through his nose, loud huffy breath, and sat on the other couch. Folded his arms across his chest. 

“John…”

“Lafayette why are you here?!”

“Shh. Little one if you’d just let me speak for a moment, I could tell you?” 

“Fine.”

“I tried to phone you, this afternoon. Alexander answered… that is a very nice friend you have-”

John snorted at that, and stared resolutely at the coffee table.

“-he had something interesting to tell me, John. He said that you haven’t been yourself lately, that you were very upset about cutting things off with me…?” Lafayette pressed, but didn’t move to close in on John’s space, just left the question in the air. 

John fell back against the back of the couch and covered his face with his hands.

“I really am going to fucking kill him.” 

“He is just trying to help. If you do not want to end things between us, John, why are you?” Lafayette asked. 

John couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything but dig the heels of his hands into his eyes and shake and shake and shake with rage and need and exhaustion. Didn’t want to fight this anymore, was tired of his whole life feeling like a war. 

“I… just go Lafayette, please?” John asked, voice heavy and tired, didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up. 

He heard Lafayette sigh, and shift on the couch. 

“Alright. I’ll go. But I am going to tell you something first that I think I should have told you long ago. What you choose to do with it… that’s up to you.” Lafayette’s voice sounded heavy, resigned, sad, and John’s heart clenched despite his best intentions. “It does not matter to me what you do for work, how you make money, if you are an escort or not, any of it. John, I enjoyed getting to know you, being with you, every moment in your company is a pleasure, and I know that I am just a client to you, and I should never have allowed this to happen, but I am falling in love with you, John. If you won’t have me as a client, perhaps you would have me as a boyfriend?” 

Silence fell.

John felt frozen, shocked. Couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, remembered Burr’s words from just a few short hours ago, and still couldn’t help but reject the idea outright.

“That’s not funny,” he whispered, heart twisting with pain, anger flaring up because it was easier to be mad than it was to be hurt, easier to fight than listen, easier to throw a punch than take one.

“No… it isn’t.” Lafayette said sadly, and John heard him stand up but didn’t move, didn’t take his hands from his face, couldn’t do this anymore and just wanted it to be over one way or another. 

“I love you, John, or I am well on my way to loving you, but I will leave you, if that’s truly what you want,” Lafayette paused, and for a moment neither of them moved, but then John heard Lafayette walking away, heard the creak of the door open, heard it close again. 

Silence.

Nothing. 

_”I love you, John,”_

What the fuck was he thinking?

John bolted up off the couch, cursing himself for being a damn fool, and bolted from the apartment after Lafayette, slamming the door behind him. 

The hallway was empty, and John choked on a howl of distress, elevator already gone, Lafayette gone, too late, too late, too late. 

“God damn it!” John swore, and bolted down the stairs, nearly slipped and fell but caught himself on the railing and ran as fast as he could, threw himself into the lobby just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened and Lafayette stepped out. 

Threw himself in front of Lafayette, panting and breathless. 

“Stop!” He gasped, holding out a hand, out of breath, heart pounding. “Wait, wait.” 

Lafayette stopped, stood still, and folded his arms across his chest. 

Waited. 

Hands on his knees, John panted, tried to get his breath back, couldn’t let Lafayette go if what Lafayette said was true, knew he’d regret for the rest of his life giving up the fight when it mattered the most. 

“Don’t go,” he gasped, “please, wait.”

“I’m waiting,” Lafayette answered, voice soft, quiet.

John straightened up, and was shocked to see the bright sheen of tears in Lafayette’s eyes. 

“...you meant it. You really fucking meant it, fuck, Lafayette, I’m such an idiot why didn’t you _say_ so?” John wailed. 

Lafayette laughed, shook his head.

“I did. You just did not want to listen. John Laurens, I have never met anyone so stubborn in my entire life,” Lafayette’s voice was warm, hopeful. “Yes, I am falling in love with you, John. I want to be your boyfriend if you’ll have me.” 

John shook his head, couldn’t help but laugh a little too, felt giddy with emotion, glad no one else was in the dingy apartment lobby, and took a step towards Lafayette. 

“Yes,” he whispered, eyes filling with tears. 

Lafayette opened his arms, and John flew into them, wrapped his arms around Lafayette’s waist and held on tight, buried his face in Lafayette’s chest and choked on a sob, clung to him like he never wanted to let go. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I only broke things off because I was falling for you so bad and I didn’t want to get heartbroken, I didn’t want to be the fool who fell for his client, this shit doesn’t happen in real life Laf, this shit doesn’t happen to stubborn pricks like me,” he babbled, rubbing his face against Lafayette’s chest, a little giddy, a few tears falling from his lashes. 

Lafayette laughed, held him closer, kissed the top of his head. 

“Oh sweet heart, oh John. I was falling for you this entire time, I’ve been enchanted with you from the moment I met you only I did not want to scare you off, I did not want to fall for an escort because I did not think there was any way you could possibly love me back,” Lafayette answered as he cradled John close, kissed his head again. “If only I had known. John, I swear, none of the rest of it matters, if you want to continue escorting I don’t mind, if only I get to call you mine.”

John shook his head, pulled back to smile up at Lafayette, little watery, little shaky. 

“No, no, I’m not doing it anymore, I… I can’t. I can’t. It hurts too much and I just want you, I just want you,” he spoke in a rush, breathless, elated, felt like this was all a dream. 

“And I you, John. Will you be my boyfriend?” Lafayette asked, voice low.

John swallowed hard. Nodded. 

“Yes,” he whispered, shaking and vulnerable and open. 

“That is the best thing I have ever heard in my life,” Lafayette whispered back, and he dropped his head and kissed John, slow and deep and desperate, pulled him in close, enveloped him in love. 

John choked on a sob, wound his hands up into Lafayette’s hair and kissed him back with a needy whine, felt so right to give up the fight _now_ , to melt into Lafayette’s arms, to surrender to being loved, to allow it to happen even if he couldn’t quite understand why. 

Lafayette pulled him closer, licked into his mouth with a deliberate swipe of his tongue that sent heat right to John’s belly, and John groaned and pressed closer, squirmed in Lafayette’s arms, felt so breathlessly full with emotion. 

Lafayette pulled back, pecked a soft kiss to John’s lips, and smiled sweetly. 

“Shall we go back upstairs, little one? I have missed you so very much…” he whispered. 

John nodded, nuzzled against Lafayette with a shaky sigh. 

“Please,” He whispered. 

Lafayette slid an arm around his waist, guided him back into the elevator and pressed the button. Pushed John up against the wall and kissed him slow and deep and thorough until John was panting and breathless, tears in his eyes at the depth of love in every line of Lafayette’s body. 

They walked back down the hall hand in hand, John’s fingers clutching Lafayette’s tightly, white knuckled, as if he was afraid he’d blow away. 

Led Lafayette back into the apartment. 

“Still gonna kill me, Laurens?” Alex taunted from the couch. 

John leveled him with a glare.

“Yes. But I’m busy right now,” He snapped, and dragged Lafayette down the hall to his room, shut the door behind them and looked around, painfully aware of exactly how much this was _not_ the Four Seasons. “So uh, welcome to my home?” He turned to Lafayette with a helpless shrug, and sat down on his bed, patting the mattress beside him, and thanking god he’d cleaned his room. 

Lafayette sat next to him and reached out to cup his cheek. 

“I love it, because it is your home, John. Nothing matters to me except that you are safe and happy and loved, John. Nothing. I mean that, and I will tell it to you as often as it takes for you to believe it,” Lafayette said, and he leaned in close and they were kissing again and John knew they should talk, knew there were too many things still left unsaid, too many wounds still open and raw, but it felt so good just to be kissing Lafayette again that John surrendered to it, wrapped his arms around Lafayette’s neck and leaned back, pulling him down onto the mattress beside him, kissing him slow and gentle and sweet. Wanted to drown in this, never wanted to come up for air, felt dizzy with relief that he got to have this again, for real this time, and didn’t have to guard his heart against all of the things it was determined to feel regardless. 

Lafayette tugged him closer, slid a hand up the back of John’s shirt, palm flat and warm against John’s skin. 

John moaned softly, pressed closer and nipped teasingly at Lafayette’s lower lip, tugged at his shirt and slipped his hand up under it, stroking his hip, so familiar, so perfect. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, voice soft, hoarse, thick with the realization of how close he’d come to losing this for good. 

“Shh, no harm done baby,” Lafayette whispered back, forehead to forehead. 

John looked into his eyes and shook his head a little, lip trembling. Closed his eyes when Lafayette brushed a thumb over his cheek, so soft. 

“I should’ve just listened,” he whispered. Steadied himself against the pain. 

Lafayette kissed him softly. 

“We’re here now, little one. We’re here now.” 

John nodded, little tearful, heart aching, and kissed Lafayette again, threaded his fingers back into Lafayette’s hair, parted his lips for Lafayette’s tongue. 

Lafayette rolled him onto his back, settled between his legs, kissed him deeper, hands cradling John’s head. 

John whined, arched up into Lafayette, felt so right to have him like this again. 

Lafayette pulled back, stripped his shirt off and tugged at John’s until John laughed and wriggled out of it, dropping it on the floor. 

“C’mere Laf, fuck I want you,” he said, voice husky. He reached up and tugged Lafayette close again, kissed him, open mouthed and desperate. 

Lafayette groaned into his mouth, kissed him back with the same urgency, and rolled his hips against John. 

John’s breath caught in his throat and his hips hitched up against Lafayette, cock thickening out in his jeans. 

He stroked his hands down Lafayette’s back, relished the feel of his body, soft skin under his hands. Real and here and all John’s, for real, just because he wanted to be. It was enough to make John cry, tears streaking his cheeks and into his hair, held close and warm by all the things he never thought he’d get to have. 

Lafayette rocked against him, pulled back from the kiss and paused. 

“John! You’re crying…” he swiped a gentle thumb over John’s damp cheek, and John laughed wetly, smiled up at Lafayette.

“I’m alright, it’s okay, I just… I’m just happy, Laf, I’m just so glad I didn’t fuck this up for good,” John said, leaning into Lafayette’s touch. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Lafayette murmured. Kissed John’s teary cheeks. “We can stop, if you need?”

John laughed again. Grabbed Lafayette’s hips and tugged him closer, groaned at the friction on his cock. 

“Don’t you dare, I haven’t come in ages,” he groaned, and Lafayette laughed and shook his head, leaned in and kissed John again. 

“Do you have lube?” he asked. 

John snorted a short laugh and pushed at Lafayette’s shoulder. 

“Do I look like a reformed prostitute to you or not? Of course I fucking have lube you ass. It’s in the desk drawer.”

Lafayette tapped John’s nose with a chiding finger and stood up.

“Don’t call me names, mon petit.” He undid his jeans, and raised an eyebrow at John. “Pants. Off. Unless you don’t want to come after all?”

John’s hands flew to his fly, and he shimmied out of his jeans as fast as he could, and kicked them off the end of the bed. Brought his hand to his cock and stroked himself as he watched Lafayette pull open the desk drawer and retrieve the bottle of lube.

Lafayette turned back to John, and just stood there for a moment, staring at him. 

John squirmed under Lafayette’s gaze, tightened his hand on his cock and stroked himself a little faster, moaning loudly. 

“Laf, c’mon,” he whined. 

“But you look so pretty…” Lafayette replied, lube in one hand. He stripped out of his jeans and underwear, though, and climbed back onto the bed, settled back between John’s legs. “Look at you, touching yourself like that… did you ever lie here and think of me, and do this? Hmm?” Lafayette asked, voice low, gaze on John’s cock. 

John shivered and whined, hitched his hips into his hand, desperately wished Lafayette was touching him, instead. 

“N-no. But I did, in the shower,” he panted “the day I first saw you.” He blushed a little, remembering it. “Wanted you so bad, even then.”

Lafayette leaned in for a tender kiss, and shifted off John, sat with his back to the headboard and beckoned John over.

John scrambled up, straddled Lafayette’s lap, leaned in and kissed him. 

“Gonna fuck me, Laf? Gonna finger me open until I can sit on your cock and ride you?” John asked, grinding his hips down against Lafayette. 

Lafayette groaned, but brought his hands to John’s hips and stilled his motions.

“No, little one. I’m not going to do that today, because the first time I get my cock in your ass, I want it to be raw. I don’t want anything between us, not even a condom. After we both are tested, then I will finger you open, and I will lick you until you cry, and then I will make love to you, properly,” Lafayette said. 

John moaned loudly, cock twitching and blurting precome at Lafayette’s words, and he nodded, wrapped his arms around Lafayette’s neck and leaned his forehead against Lafayette’s forehead. 

“Uh huh, okay, okay, Jesus Christ Laf,” John squirmed in his lap, blood heating just from Lafayette’s words. 

Lafayette popped the lube open, drizzled a generous amount onto his hand and then wrapped his hand around both his cock and John’s. Leaned in and kissed John as he started to stroke, slick glide of his hand wrapped tight around their cocks. 

John moaned loudly, kissed Lafayette back sloppily, desperate, Lafayette’s hand stroking quick and firm. 

“I have missed you so much little one,” Lafayette breathed, and he tightened his hand, twisted his wrist just so. Pleasure coiled in John’s gut, body tightening, Lafayette’s hand felt so good after so long, and he could feel release rushing up at him, and he didn’t even try to stop it.

“Laf, Laf, gonna come, fuck,” John panted, breathy moans escaping his mouth, “Laf, oh, fuck-”

John’s hips jerked as his orgasm hit, come splashing up onto Lafayette’s belly. He panted, open mouthed as Lafayette stroked him through, and squirmed away when his touch became too much, oversensitive in the wake of release. 

“Oh John, you are so gorgeous.” Lafayette let him go, continued to stroke himself, hand tight and quick. 

John batted Lafayette’s hand away, dropped down the bed and took Lafayette’s cock in his mouth with a desperate moan, sucked him deep and bobbed his head, eyes closed. He stroked his tongue over the head of Lafayette’s cock when he pulled off, then swallowed him deep again, over and over, revelled in the absolute pleasure of doing this just because he wanted to, because he was desperate for the taste of Lafayette’s come in his throat, desperate to be the cause of the loud moan that ripped from Lafayette’s throat as his hands buried in John’s hair and tugged. 

“John! Oh mon dieu, John!” Lafayette groaned, his hips pushing up into John’s mouth. 

John groaned, hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder, bobbed his head faster. Relaxed into the rhythm of it, loved the sound of Lafayette’s moans in his ears.

“John, John, I am close,” Lafayette warned, and John just took him deeper, swallowed around his thick cock, and groaned when the first splash of come hit the back of his throat, sucked Lafayette through his orgasm, swallowed him down, licked his cock clean with sweeping strokes of his tongue, finally tasting Lafayette for real, soft moans from his lips as he swiped his tongue over the head of Lafayette’s cock, and then kissed back up his body, open mouthed grin. Felt sated, felt happy, felt for the first time in a long time, that everything was going to be okay. 

Lafayette kissed him firmly, pulled him back down onto the bed and hugged him tight. 

“I’m never letting go,” he whispered. 

John cupped Lafayette’s cheek in his hand, kissed him lightly. 

“Please don’t.”


	7. Chapter 7

John couldn’t remember ever being so happy in his entire life. 

Lafayette moved out of the Four Seasons, and into a penthouse apartment. Gave John a key and told him to make himself at home. Spent a blissful weekend “breaking in” Lafayette’s new bed. And couch. And floor. And kitchen counter. And shower. And balcony. 

Through careful patience and determination, Hercules taught John how to mix drinks, and they spent several evenings in the kitchen practicing again and again and again, Lafayette, Eliza, Aaron, and Alex sloppy drunk and laughing uproariously in the living room, willing guinea pigs while John learned. 

When Herc thought he was ready, he dragged John down to the bar he worked at, and scored John a job tending bar three nights a week. 

A week later, Lafayette broached the topic of a loan again, and this time, John accepted. Felt a heavy weight of worry lift off of his shoulders. 

It wasn’t all smooth sailing. Some nights, John would get to his knees for Lafayette, only to find that he felt revolted at being there, and would instead throw himself into the shower to shake and shake, water filling up his open mouth, eyes screwed shut tight against memories.

But Lafayette was always there when he came out, waiting with a warmed towel and a mug of tea to bundle John up and cuddle him close until he fell asleep, no harm done, no words required.

John finished the merman painting, and it vanished three days later. 

Perplexed, John asked Alex if he’d seen it, and Alex had just smiled knowingly, and shook his head. 

A week after that, Lafayette presented John with an exhibitor's package for an upcoming art show, and returned the merman painting to him. 

Lafayette and John went together to get tested, held hands the whole time, and left feeling giddy. 

Received negative results a few days later. 

John set up his art supplies in one of Lafayette’s spare bedrooms. Told himself it was because the lighting was better there, and the room bigger, that’s all. Didn’t mind the happy little flip flop in his belly when only a few short days after moving his art supplies to Lafayette’s, a state of the art desk, shelving, and a chic chaise lounge showed up in the room, turning it into the perfect spot for John to work. 

He began working on a portfolio again, felt connected to his art for the first time in months, and printed out fresh college applications. Felt like he would be ready to tackle those, soon. 

Sometimes caught himself picking fights with Lafayette just for the sake of it, out of some aching need to push and push and push to see if this fragile thing would break. 

Discovered instead, that it wasn’t fragile at all, that Lafayette was difficult to bait and didn’t want to fight, and found himself attending weekly therapy sessions instead. 

Called his father, just to say hi, and ended the call five minutes later with neither of them having yelled at the other. 

Breathed easier with every small victory. 

Settled, and blossomed, and loved and loved and loved.

~*~

Three weeks after receiving their negative test results, Lafayette has still not so much as put a finger in John’s ass, and John was beginning to think he’d never get fucked again. 

He’d woken before Lafayette on a sunny Sunday morning, stretched out in Lafayette’s enormous, decadent bed, achingly hard. Needed to get fucked, and needed it now. 

He nuzzled up to Lafayette’s side, kissed and nipped at his neck, stroked his hand down Lafayette’s chest, toyed with his nipples teasingly, his cock pressed to the side of Lafayette’s leg. 

“Laf. Laf, wake the fuck up, c’mon,” John whined, nudging at his jaw. 

Lafayette groaned in his sleep and swatted John lazily. 

“Hey! Don’t swat me!” John pouted, laughing. 

“Oh shit, I did not realize it was you, mon cher, I thought it was the, uh, the large bird. In my dream,” Lafayette mumbled, half asleep, and rolled over to face John, smiling sleepily. 

“An ostrich?” John asked, crinkling his nose. 

“That’s the one,” Lafayette responded. “Now, what are you waking me up for?”

John grinned and wriggled in close again, grabbed Lafayette’s hand and moved it to his cock, rocked his hips to push into Lafayette’s soft, open hand. 

“Ohhh… well, we should look after that, shouldn’t we?” Lafayette said with a grin, closing his hand around it and giving John a few dry strokes that made John tilt his head back and moan. 

“Yeah, yeah, Laf,” John panted, wriggling his hips. 

“Would you prefer my mouth, or my hand this morning, my love?” Lafayette asked, and John could have screamed.

“Neither, baby, want your cock. Want you to fuck me, please Laf,” John begged, cock twitching in Laf’s hand at the idea.

Lafayette stilled, his face growing serious, and John couldn’t take it anymore.

“ _What!?_ Laf, what’s the problem? We’re both clean, we’ve been tested, why aren’t we having sex?” He asked, a little shrill, a little desperate.

Lafayette let go of his cock and sighed, and John closed his eyes, swallowed hard, braced himself because here it was, the inevitable fallout, the end of this daydream, the crash back to reality-

“Hey, John, look at me sweetheart, I can see you thinking, just relax, let’s discuss this,” Lafayette said, voice soft. 

John opened one eye reluctantly, and Lafayette looked at him so sad that he wanted to close it again immediately.

“My love don’t look at me so. I want to, I very much want to, I just have been… hesitant… because I do not want you to think that I am only dating you so that I can fuck you,” Lafayette said. 

John opened both eyes. Blinked at Lafayette in surprise. 

“So… it’s not because you don’t want to? Laf I’ve been so worried that I wasn’t good enough, that you were just waiting for some way to tell me, that you didn’t want me anymore, didn’t want to fuck a dirty, used up whore…” John couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice despite his best efforts, wanted to shrink from himself and those thoughts and Lafayette’s gaze. 

Lafayette sucked in a sharp breath. Cupped John’s face in his hands and kissed him soundly.

“No, my sweet. Oh my love is that what you thought? I am so sorry, John. I am so, so sorry. I never once wanted you to think that, I never once thought that. You are not dirty and used up, you are beautiful and incredible and the love of my life and I think that now and I thought it when you were an escort too, John, my love, there is nothing more precious to me in the world than you are and I only wanted to be sure that you believed that, that I was not just using you for sex,” Lafayette spoke in a rush, thumb stroking John’s cheek.

“Oh,” John said. He stared at Lafayette for a long moment, and then laughed, couldn’t help it, felt ten kinds of fool for the millionth time, and had never been so glad to be wrong. “So… now that we’ve cleared that up… will you please, please, _please_ get your dick in my ass?” 

Lafayette laughed and shook his head, leaned in and kissed John soundly, and whispered against his lips;

“Tongue first.”

John moaned, breath catching, and nodded.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, please Laf,” he breathed, body strung tight with anticipation and need. 

Lafayette grinned, and pushed back the covers. Scooted down the bed and settled himself between John’s legs. 

John looked down at him, breathing shallow, cock hard and heavy against his belly, and he spread his legs, tilted his hips up, squirmed a little. 

“Please?” he pouted, impatient. Didn’t want to wait any longer. 

Lafayette grinned, and petted John’s inner thigh. 

“Patience, my love,” he said, and he kissed the inside of John’s other thigh, and John shivered as Lafayette parted his lips and sucked a bruise into his skin. 

Slowly, Lafayette kissed and sucked and nipped his way up John’s inner thigh until he was nosing at his balls, tongue stroking over them, and John was already shaking, already undone, fingers clenching in the sheets. 

“Laf!” He whined. Canted his hips up further, desperate. 

“Over,” Lafayette pushed at John’s hip, and John rolled onto his stomach, cock trapped beneath him in the soft sheets, Lafayette’s hands on his ass. 

Lafayette dug his fingers into John’s ass cheeks, and John groaned and tipped his hips up, breath catching in his throat when Lafayette spread him open. Paused for an agonizing moment, John’s face buried in the pillow, hands clenching at nothing, desperate to be touched. 

Lafayette licked a slow stripe right from John’s balls to the cleft of his ass. 

John cried out wordlessly, bunched the pillow into a ball under his chest. 

Lafayette did it again, and John felt like he’d been set on fire, every sensation felt brand new. 

“You taste exquisite,” Lafayette said, breath puffing over John’s hole, and John clenched on nothing, moaned in response. 

Lafayette lowered his head again, placed a sucking kiss right over John’s hole, made him cry out again, hips driving against the bed. Then Lafayette lapped at him, flickering licks of his tongue that had John panting and moaning, fingers digging into the pillow. 

Lafayette moaned deep in his throat, and wriggled the tip of his tongue into John’s hole. John gasped at the wet heat, Laf’s tongue curled into his sensitive rim, dipping in and out with delicate licks. 

“Fuck, fuck, Laf, feels so good,” he panted. 

Lafayette wriggled his tongue in deeper, fucked John with quick, pointed strokes. 

John squirmed against him, groaned loudly, desperate for more. 

“Laf, Laf, please!” He gasped, legs trembling, hips pushing back against Lafayette’s mouth. 

Lafayette pulled back, stroked the flat of his tongue over John’s hole. 

“Lube?” He asked, and John cursed, and his curse turned into a groan when Lafayette fixed his mouth back to his hole, licking deep into him in one stroke. 

“Fuck, fuck, hang on,” John stretched for the bedside table, and dammit why was this bed so big, he could almost reach the lube sitting there, just had to stretch a little, but then Lafayette was fucking him with his tongue again and John moaned and pushed back into it, cock dragging against the sheets, and it wasn’t fair, dammit.

He stretched, just a little more, managed to snag the lube with his finger tips, and tossed it back towards Laf.

Lafayette pulled back suddenly, laughing. 

“Ouch! Do not throw lube at my head John!” He chided, and John peered back at Lafayette, and couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I’m sorry!” He stuck out his tongue, and Lafayette rolled his eyes. Popped open the lube and slicked up his fingers, painfully slow, eyebrow raised at John. 

“I told you to be patient,” Lafayette said drily, and John groaned, let his face drop back into the pillow.

Lafayette’s mouth returned to his rim, teasing little licks that drew a whine from John’s throat, but then Lafayette was pressing a finger inside him, and John was gasping and clenching around it, eyes rolling back in his head. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Laf, oh god, Laf,” John panted, tried to be still, but just wanted more, was too far gone to be embarrassed by how loud he groaned when Lafayette started pumping that finger in and out of him. 

John dug his fingers into the pillow, sheets damp with precome beneath him, felt like he was about to fly apart into a million pieces, whole body taut with pleasure. 

Lafayette curled his finger inside him, rubbed over John’s prostate and made pleasure bloom with sudden heat in John’s gut. 

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, and felt Lafayette smile against him, tongue still teasing at his rim. 

He pressed a second finger in, rubbed at John’s prostate. 

John squirmed and whined, needed more, relished the way Lafayette’s fingers felt inside him, stroking and stretching. Felt like he was falling apart, whole body on fire, trembling. 

“Laf, Laf, please I need your cock, please,” didn’t think he could wait any longer. 

Lafayette pumped his fingers faster, spread them out inside John, stretching him open, licked into him between them. 

“Laf!” John cried, white knuckled in the pillow, rocked himself back into Lafayette’s fingers fucking into him, stroking his prostate, wanted more, needed more. “Please, fuck, fuck me Laf, c’mon!”

Lafayette ignored him, kept driving his fingers into him, rubbing right over his prostate, tongue teasing his swollen, sensitive rim. 

“Laf!” John sobbed, breath hitching in his chest, felt all desperate, all coming apart, too much and not enough all at once. “Laf, god, please, fuck, I need you, need your cock, fuck, please, fuck me!” 

Finally, finally, Lafayette pulled back, pulled his fingers out and slicked lube up his cock. 

“Over, baby, I want to see your face,” he prompted, voice soft, and John rolled back over obediently, felt all strung out and needy, would have climbed inside Lafayette’s skin in that moment if he could have. 

“Please Laf,” John pleaded, voice soft, needed him touching him, needed him inside him. Reached up for him, desperate whine leaving his throat. 

“Shh baby, I’ve got you,” Lafayette dropped to his elbows and kissed John’s forehead, then his lips, so soft and gentle. 

John hooked a leg up over Lafayette’s hip, watched his face as he positioned his cock and pushed inside him. 

“Oh, Laf, you’re so big, fuck,” John panted, arching off the bed. 

“You feel incredible little one,” Lafayette said, stilling for a moment when he was fully seated inside John. 

John felt his breath catch in his throat, felt so full, so loved. 

Reached up and tugged Lafayette down for a lingering kiss. 

“I love you,” he whispered against Lafayette’s lips, and Lafayette moaned softly, started to move, slow drag of his cock on John’s walls. 

“I love you too, little one, oh so very much,” Lafayette whispered back, rocking his hips so slow that every tiny motion felt exquisite, and John still felt like he couldn’t breathe, heart in his throat, had never thought he’d feel this loved in his entire life. 

Lafayette reached between them, fisted John’s cock in his hand, and stroked him in time with the thrusts of his hips, slow and deep, the head of his cock hitting John’s prostate with every thrust. 

John’s eyes closed and he arched up into Lafayette’s thrusts, pleasure pooling in his gut. 

Lafayette moved his hips harder and faster, soft groans leaving his lips, hand stroking John’s cock with tight, quick strokes as he got closer to coming. 

John’s mouth fell open and he tugged at Lafayette’s hair, closer and closer to release with every perfectly aimed thrust of Lafayette’s hips. 

“Laf, oh god,” John panted, body tight, cock dripping onto his stomach. “Gonna come, Laf.”

“Go on baby.” Lafayette fucked into John harder and faster, his fingers tightening around John’s cock. 

John cried out as his orgasm hit, wave after wave of pleasure making his vision go white as he clenched down around Lafayette’s cock, hot ropes of come hitting his stomach. 

Lafayette groaned deep in his throat, hips stilling with his cock buried to the root inside John as he came only moments after John, pumping John full of come. 

He pulled out carefully and lay down, gathered John close and kissed him, open mouthed and breathless. 

John kissed Lafayette back with a low whine, wriggled close, felt like his heart might just burst with emotion. 

“I’m so fucking lucky, I love you so much,” he whispered into Lafayette’s mouth. 

Lafayette smiled, kissed John again, shook his head a little. 

“I’m the lucky one. You are the brightest light in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it. Time for my usual sappy end of fic comment ;) 
> 
> Thank you, brilliantboffins, for commissioning this fic from me! It was so much fun to write, and I am still awed and flattered that you wanted to commission my writing in the first place. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who read and commented, as always, you give me life and I appreciate it so so so much <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> I am needy and will wither away and perish without comments <3.


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